When the Stars Turn Blue
by riftintime
Summary: Jack Harkness leads a team of scientists to create a technology that may have profound and far-reaching consequences for humanity. But when he receives devastating news and a mysterious stranger enters his life, his concept of reality may change forever. Jack/Ianto AU.
1. Chapter 1

"**When the Stars Turn Blue" by riftintime**

**Summary:** Jack Harkness leads a small team of brilliant scientists working secretly underground to create a new technology that could have profound and far-reaching consequences for humanity. But when he receives devastating news and a mysterious stranger enters his life, his concept of reality may be changed forever. Jack/Ianto AU.

**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto

**Rating:** NC-17/Adult

**Genres:** Sci-Fi/Fantasy/Mystery/Romance

**Warnings:** Explicit sexual situations, adult themes, coarse language, dark themes, violence, character death, romance, angst.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters created and owned by the BBC, and is loosely based on the movie 'The Thirteenth Floor' copyright Columbia Pictures and the novel 'Simulacron-3' by Daniel F. Galouye. No profit is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes:** This is an alternate universe story, using the Torchwood characters (plus mentions of a few from Doctor Who), and set in an alien-free world.

For those who have read my previous story, this one is quite different, but I hope you'll enjoy it. Please review and let me know what you think. I greatly appreciate any feedback. Thanks for reading.

Special thanks to my friend and beta Prothrombintime for support, encouragement, suggestions, advice on technical details, and invaluable feedback.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Jack Harkness stood in front of the tall floor to ceiling windows. He gazed out through the clear glass, looking past his reflection and into the heavy darkness beyond. It was an unusually clear evening; a mere hint of wispy clouds masking a broad expanse of stars. A full moon was large and high in the sky. Its silvery glow danced over the gently moving waters below.

The image of the room behind him was captured in the reflective surface. His friends and colleagues were scattered around the large and elegantly decorated space. The cacophony of their voices registered in his mind, very near, yet sounding muted and distant as they chatted and laughed, celebrating their success. The drinks were flowing, and an abundance of food was spread out across several long tables in the centre of the room, easily enough to feed three times as many people.

The barest hint of a smile briefly played across his lips. Their boss had never been one to do things by halves. It would only be a matter of moments before one of them made their way over and dragged him into the revelry, but in the meantime, he continued to stand alone, tense and silent, as he tried to process the news he'd received earlier that day.

The initial numbness and sense of detachment had soon given way to a raging tumult of emotions. He'd wavered between relief, violent anger, and overwhelming despair. Finally, he had an explanation for his condition, and that knowledge had imbrued him with a strange and unexpected sense of acceptance. But it competed with his anguish that what he'd most feared, and had desperately tried to deny, had indeed turned out to be true. It hadn't escaped him that given the nature of his work, there was a bizarre irony about his dire prognosis.

A familiar voice startled him from his introspection. "Jack?"

Jack pressed his eyes closed for a moment and steeled himself. He turned slightly and met the concerned gaze of his friend. He plastered a tight smile across his features. "Hey, Doc," he said, wondering if his attempt at cheer sounded as false to the other man's ears as it did to his own.

Professor John Smith, or simply 'The Doctor' as he was known to his friends and acquaintances, was Jack's closest friend, mentor, and the driving force behind their efforts. He had been responsible for bringing together their small and eclectic team of brilliant scientific minds. John was nothing short of a genius, and Jack had always been a little in awe of the older man. At forty years old, John was senior to Jack by only five years, yet they looked of a similar age.

John was an unusual and unashamedly eccentric man, and certainly not known for his conformity. Jack had never known anyone else even remotely like him. There was a youthful exuberance about John that was infectious. He commanded deep respect and admiration of those around him with ease, and there was absolutely nothing disingenuous in his nature. If he seemed a little arrogant or pretentious on occasion, it was only because of his overriding passion for their work, and his remarkable, unwavering intellect.

He was slightly taller than Jack, having about an inch over Jack's six foot stature, but John was thin and lean – good-looking in his own unique way, with a narrow angular face, smooth, youthful skin and a thick mop of unruly brown hair, complemented by inquisitive brown eyes and long, wide sideburns. His appearance was a stark contrast to Jack's solid build and more obvious appeal. Jack was classically handsome, with the type of dashing good looks that people tended to swoon over. Of course he was entirely aware of that, and he used it to his advantage whenever the need occurred.

John looked at him studiously for a moment. "You got the results today," he said quietly without preamble. He reached his hand up and rested it on Jack's shoulder. "How bad is it?"

Jack turned away, looking back out across the rippling water as he resisted the urge to pull back and establish some distance between them. He wasn't ready for the conversation.

Taking a moment, he breathed out deeply. "They call it a GBM," he replied evenly.

John's hand tensed on his shoulder, and there was silence for a long moment. Jack held himself still as he waited for John to respond. "Glioblastoma multiforme," John translated, his voice neutral but catching as the last syllable left his lips.

"Yup," Jack agreed, his heart constricting at the clinical description. "A nice way of saying malignant brain tumour," he added, forcing out the words, but managing to keep his voice low and steady.

He paused, clenching his fists against his sides for a moment, the words reminding him that he was walking around literally with a time-bomb in his skull. "Incurable and fatal."

John squeezed his hand on Jack's shoulder and met Jack's eyes in their reflections before looking out into the darkness. He lowered his hand. "How long?" he asked quietly.

Jack shrugged. "Twelve months if I'm lucky. That's with aggressive treatment. Maybe five or six months without."

"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry." John's voice was sincere and filled with sorrow.

Jack turned and searched John's features. John looked back at him sadly, his eyes infused with pain. John's subdued reaction and apparent acceptance had surprised him. "You knew, didn't you?"

John shook his head slightly. "No. I suspected, but I wasn't sure. Your symptoms – headaches and morning emesis, occasional blackouts, memory loss and paranoia… it all seemed to fit, but I'm not an expert." He paused and looked uncharacteristically apologetic. "I didn't want to worry you, so I didn't say anything. And I knew you didn't want Owen to know… I hoped I was wrong."

Jack let out a wry laugh. "You're never wrong, Doc."

"I hoped I was this time," John replied solemnly.

Jack inwardly cringed. Part of him hadn't wanted to tell anyone, but someone needed to know the truth about his condition. John had the right to know, and he would have figured it out soon enough anyway. There really hadn't been a choice, but at least he knew that the older man wouldn't pity him. He sighed deeply. "Yeah. Just this once, I wish you had been too."

"What are you going to do?" John asked gently.

"Nothing," Jack replied. "I want to keep working, doing something worthwhile… for as long as I've got."

"You could leave," John suggested. "Make the most of the time. Do some travelling?"

"Alone?" Jack retorted more sharply than he'd intended. He shook his head. "Everyone and everything that matters to me is right here. I've got nowhere else to go. I'm leaving in the morning for the cottage like I planned… I need time to think and try to come to terms with this… but I'll be back in two weeks."

John nodded. He didn't argue, and Jack was grateful for that. "That's fine, Jack. Take whatever time you need."

"Two weeks," Jack reiterated firmly. "Then I'll be back."

"If there's anything…" John began.

"I know," Jack said, cutting him off, not wanting to hear the words. "Thanks, John," he added, hoping his uncharacteristic use of the other man's actual name would convey his need to end the discussion.

They stood together silently for a minute or so. Then Jack turned and clapped his friend on the back. He needed to push everything aside for at least the next hour or two, and try to enjoy their celebration. "Buy me a drink?"

John turned his head and looked at Jack with confusion. "I'm buying all the drinks tonight, Jack. And all the food."

Jack grinned despite himself. "I know. Just humour me. The larger and stronger, the better."

"Come on, then," the older man said with a forced smile, and Jack felt relieved that John seemed to understand.

They made their way over to the bar at the far end of the room, smiling at their colleagues on the way. Owen Harper, their neurology and biogenetics expert, was busy loading up a plate at the buffet while their software genius, Toshiko Sato, looked on with amusement, a glass of white wine held delicately in her slim hand. Owen and Tosh were Jack's two closest friends after John.

Owen, formerly a neurosurgery resident in London, was cynical and somewhat scruffy, but a vital member of their team. He'd become disillusioned with practicing medicine after the tragic loss of his fiancée in a car accident several years ago. Lost in his grief, John had brought him to Cardiff and given him a new start in life.

Similar to Owen, Toshiko had been saved by John after getting into serious trouble when she'd been blackmailed into stealing classified government property. Jack had always wondered how John had managed to secure Toshiko's release, but his friend had remained unusually tight-lipped on the subject. Tosh had a level of intelligence that rivalled John's, and she seemed to have an innate understanding of all manner of technology and electronics. Jack was constantly amazed by her prowess, but he also respected her gentle, unassuming nature and kindness. He'd always felt protective of her. She and Owen had become close recently, and he hoped that something might come of it. They were both lonely, and Jack thought that Tosh could be a positive and calming influence on the often brash and outspoken Londoner.

The rest of the team included Mike Lyndon, Beth Halloran and Alex Hopkins, all three of whom were software specialists with strong backgrounds in artificial intelligence, similar to Jack himself. There was also Suzie Costello, a computer hardware specialist, Charlie Gaskell, who specialised in database implementation and software optimisation, and the youngest member of their team, Tommy Blockless, a talented mathematician who was especially skilled in developing complex software algorithms.

They were an odd group of people, all a bit lost in their own way, but united by John in a common goal. John had brought purpose to their lives, and his unerring faith in each of them challenged them to be the best they could be in their respective fields.

John's mantra was 'the twenty-first century is when everything changes.' Jack had always secretly thought that the words were rather cliché, like something from an over-the-top television show where aliens threatened to take over the world every week. Nonetheless, he had nothing but admiration and respect for John's conviction and determination.

They reached the bar, and John chatted amiably to the bartender for a moment before ordering a double bourbon for Jack and some sort of garish looking concoction for himself. It was a departure from his favoured banana daiquiri, Jack noted absently, but he decided not to press the subject. John sometimes had these exploratory phases where he would try new things with an endearingly child-like glee.

Collecting their drinks, they moved to the nearest table and sat down. Jack clinked his glass against the other man's with a mumbled, "Cheers."

He tossed back half of his drink, relishing the burn as it hit the back of his throat. He decided that he really needed to get blindingly drunk at the soonest possible opportunity. John stared at him worriedly, his hand wrapped around his glass, not bringing it to his lips.

Jack shook his head sadly. "Please, Doc. Don't… don't look at me like that. I'm not going to be able to deal with this if you're going to be all weird and awkward around me."

John seemed to mentally shake himself. "Of course. Sorry."

He smiled apologetically at Jack and then took a sip of his drink, turning to look across at the others. Jack followed John's gaze, feeling a melancholy surge of pride and affection for his friends. They were the closest thing he had to a family. "You did it," he commented a moment later. "I had my doubts at times, but I knew that if anyone could, it was you."

"_We_ did it, Jack," John admonished lightly, looking back at his friend. "I couldn't have done it without you… without all of you."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. When John had first approached him a little over six years ago, Jack had thought his proposal was merely a delusional fantasy – the stuff of science-fiction movies and novels. John's concept had been to create a virtual world; a simulated reality that would be entirely indistinguishable from the real world. He'd further proposed that people would be able to transfer their consciousness into the simulation and inhabit artificial characters, allowing the user to experience the world from their perspective. Jack had initially thought that it all sounded completely absurd.

At the time, the required computer technology had seemed decades away. The necessary processing power and storage capacity alone had been unimaginable. But Moore's Law had prevailed, exactly as John had predicted, and within five years technology had evolved sufficiently to meet their requirements. John's premise wasn't simply to create an artificial environment inhabited by characters that mimicked human behaviour. It was much more profound and far-reaching. His goal was to artificially replicate the human consciousness. These virtual souls would be fully cognitive, living within their simulated world, and wholly unaware that it wasn't real.

Jack had maintained a healthy degree of scepticism for a long time, nonetheless he'd been unable to resist John's offer to join him. If nothing else, it had been far more interesting than any of the other prospects he'd had at the time. John had been passionately adamant, and Jack had quickly realised that this was something he simply had to be a part of. Ever since, he'd been at John's side, steadily helping him to realise his dream, and managing the day-to-day operations of their endeavour. John was their leader and captain, but Jack looked after the numerous practicalities, with which John readily admitted he was a bit useless.

Their work was clandestine, taking place deep underground rainy Cardiff, and privately funded by an unknown benefactor… unknown to everyone except John. Jack had his suspicions, although he had never voiced them, not wanting to put his friend in the difficult position of having to refute or acknowledge his claim. But one man stood out in Jack's mind as having both the means and the desire to bankroll their efforts – Henry Parker, a self-made billionaire, now an elderly man, and known to have failing health. If his suspicion was correct, Jack assumed that Parker would have a front-row seat to experience the simulation for himself. Their technology, once proven, would allow someone like Henry Parker to once again experience the world as a young man in the prime of his life.

And now, finally, they were ready to begin trialling the system. John had insisted on hosting a celebration of their milestone at the St. David's Hotel. Everyone was in good spirits, buoyed with anticipation and excitement, yet tempered with a degree of trepidation. In time, their work could have a profound effect on the world, and the moral issues were not lost on Jack.

John was an idealist, relentlessly pursuing advancement, but Jack had always maintained a more pragmatic view. If their efforts were successful, eventually the technology would make its way out into the world, and inevitably fall into the hands of people with far less altruistic motives. He'd need to make sure there was someone to help John to keep an eye on the bigger picture after he was gone.

"I want to be the first test subject," Jack said suddenly as he took another swig from his glass.

John turned to look at him, his eyes going wide. He shook his head. "No, Jack. Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."

"I've got nothing to lose," Jack argued. "If my brain gets fried…" He shrugged. "Well, it can't be any worse than the alternative. And someone has to be the first to use it." He paused and downed the rest of his drink. "Besides, Owen's confident, and we've done as much testing as we can without performing a live cortical transfer."

John looked like he was about to protest further, but Jack pushed on. "I'm doing this, Doc. If something goes wrong, you'll be able to fix it and make it safer for the next person."

Jack felt like he wanted to squirm under John's piercing, soul-searching stare, but he resolutely held the other man's gaze. He was confident that John would concede to his infallible logic. He didn't want to waste the time he had left. This was something he needed to do.

"All right, Jack," John allowed, giving him a reluctant nod. "If you're sure this is what you want to do, I won't stop you."

Jack smiled grimly. "It is. Thanks, Doc."

They both stood and moved over to join their companions. John quickly launched into an enthusiastic discussion with Toshiko while Jack looked on fondly.

It was the last time that Jack would ever see John Smith alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the bonus chapter I promised. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter! Please review if you can, and I make sure I reply to all reviews. Thanks as always to my dedicated and patient beta Prothrombintime. Also a special thank you to Furious Dee for suggesting a location for Jack's retreat. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Jack woke with a start. He bolted upright and the bed covers fell away as he gasped for breath. He quickly closed his eyes and concentrated on regulating his breathing. He felt disoriented, and his head throbbed painfully. The slightly cool air of his bedroom chilled his sweat-dampened skin, and his body gave an involuntary shiver. A bead of sweat formed at the base of his neck, and he felt it trail slowly down the length of his spine.

He opened his eyes again and gazed blearily around his generously proportioned bedroom. It wavered in his vision but gradually came into focus. A large window dominated the wall on the left side of his bed, and a weak hint of daylight pushed its way into the room from around the edges of the heavy blinds.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It declared the time as 6.35 AM. The large, bright blue digits of the display hurt his eyes, but they infused the room with a soft azure glow that he'd always found comforting. Collapsing back onto the bed with a sigh, he shivered again as he pulled the covers up around his shoulders.

He'd returned from his two week retreat early the previous evening. He'd stayed in a small cottage outside the coastal town of Tenby, spending long, lonely days sitting on a quiet stretch of isolated beach and staring out to sea, followed by evenings of drinking himself into oblivion. He'd decided that the one upside of his condition was that no matter how much alcohol he consumed, he could be certain that he wouldn't die of liver failure.

The headaches continued along with bouts of nausea and vomiting. It was more severe in the mornings, but abated as the day wore on. The episodes of disorientation and memory loss that he'd been experiencing over the last few months, however, had been curiously absent. The dark nightmares had also receded, temporarily at least, but he'd put that down to the alcohol. The nightmares had been the worst aspect of everything he'd gone through so far. They were more vivid than anything he'd experienced before, and they terrified him to the depths of his soul.

His drinking trend had continued with his return home that evening. After unceremoniously dumping his bags in the hallway of his apartment, he'd headed for the kitchen and located the bottle of scotch he always kept on hand. He vaguely recalled staring mindlessly at the television for an hour or so, and then stumbling to his bedroom and collapsing onto the bed.

In retrospect, he was surprised that he'd had the presence of mind to strip off his clothes and get himself under the bed covers. He'd noticed that his clothes were neatly folded and piled up on the chair by the window. He thought that seemed a little odd – he expected them to be scattered haphazardly across the floor.

Jack stared up at the ceiling and focused again on his breathing as he tried to settle his mind. He knew that his fate was sealed. He accepted that now. He had to, and no amount of rage or self-pity was going to change the inevitable outcome. The only thing he could do was make the most of the time that he had left. He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself, stop dwelling on all of his regrets, and stop lamenting all of the things that he would never have the chance to experience. He needed to get back to work and focus his efforts on making their project a success. His contribution would be his legacy to the world.

With a weary sigh, he pushed himself upright and swung his legs to the floor. The thick, soft carpet felt good against his bare feet. Standing up, he stretched out his body and padded across the room to the en-suite. He showered quickly, completed the rest of his morning routine, and then dressed in his favourite dark blue shirt and charcoal suit trousers. He laid his suit jacket on the bed, placed his shoes on the floor beneath, and moved to the kitchen. He was desperately in need of coffee. He always struggled to face a new day without at least one caffeine fix in his system.

Just as he was savouring his first sip of the strong brew, his phone rang, filling the silence of the apartment with its loud, monotonous trill. The sudden noise abruptly startled him out of his thoughts. He reached for the handset on the kitchen bench-top and pressed it against his ear.

"Harkness," he muttered by way of greeting.

"_Jack Harkness?"_ An authoritative female voice asked. The voice was distinctly Welsh.

"Yes," Jack replied.

"_Mr. Harkess, this is Detective Inspector Cooper, South Wales Police CID. I'm calling about John Smith. You're listed as his emergency contact."_

Jack felt his heart start to pound. "That's right," he responded quickly. "What's going on? Is he okay?"

"_I'm very sorry, Mr. Harkness… Jack…"_ The voice paused. _"John Smith was attacked last night. I'm sorry to tell you that he's dead."_

Jack felt his legs give way and he slid to the floor. He lowered his arm and looked at the handset in shock.

"_Jack?"_

Jack's hand shook as he brought the handset back to his ear. "No… no, that's not possible. This has to be a mistake," he stammered.

"_I'm sorry. I know this must be a shock. We need to talk to you about Mr. Smith. Can you come to the station, please? Immediately, if that's possible."_

"Um… yes, all right," Jack replied automatically.

"_Cardiff Central Police Station. Please ask for Detective Inspector Gwen Cooper."_

Jack disconnected the call and dropped the phone to the floor. It had to be a mistake, he told himself. It was just a case of mistaken identity. It was a ridiculously common name after all. They'd often joked about it.

He grabbed the phone again and tried calling John's mobile, then his home number, and finally his office line. He got diverted to John's voice mail each time. As a feeling of cold dread consumed him, he picked himself up, raced back to his bedroom, shrugged on his jacket and shoes, and frantically grabbed his keys, wallet and mobile phone. He hurriedly left the apartment, slamming the door closed behind him. His only thought was getting to the police station and proving that this was all some horrible mistake.

[=====]

Jack sat anxiously in the waiting area at the central police station. He belatedly realised that he should have stopped at John's apartment on the way to see if he was there. He'd tried calling John again while he was waiting for Detective Cooper without success. With each passing moment, he was becoming more frantic.

A young, blond haired man approached him. He was dressed in a cheap and slightly ill-fitting suit, and had a harried look about him.

"Jack Harkness?" He reached forward to shake Jack's hand as Jack stood up. "I'm Detective Andy Davidson. Sorry to drag you in here so early." He grimaced apologetically and gestured for Jack to follow him. "Can you come this way, please?"

They proceeded down a long, wide, brightly lit corridor and were intercepted by a brunette woman of average height. "This is Detective Inspector Gwen Cooper," Andy said, introducing them.

Jack glanced briefly at Gwen. He guessed she was in her early thirties. She was slim and attractive, with long straight black hair, an oval-shaped face, and large inquisitive green eyes. Her attire consisted of figure-hugging dark trousers, a white shirt and fitted black leather jacket. While she was undeniably feminine, there was a tough, no-nonsense look about her.

She gazed up at him curiously, and in Jack's opinion, slightly inappropriately. "Jack? Thanks for coming in. I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances."

Jack nodded. "Can I see the body?" he asked abruptly. "This has to be a mistake."

"This way." Gwen strode quickly away, leaving Jack to follow her, with Andy trailing along behind them.

Ten minutes later, Jack was sitting at a desk, feeling shell-shocked, and desperately trying to banish the image of John's ashen corpse from his mind. Gwen placed a cup of coffee down in front of him and then sat down at the other side of the desk. "I'm very sorry for your loss," she said quietly as she looked at him.

Jack nodded mutely and reached a trembling hand towards the cup. He managed to take a sip but then quickly put it back on the desk and pushed it away. "Where… um, where did it happen?"

"He was found at the rear of a bar on the corner of Bute and Stuart streets. Near the Plass," Gwen explained. "His money, credit cards and phone were taken, but they left his wallet and ID." She paused for a moment. "The person who did this… well, it looks like they enjoyed it. He was stabbed over a dozen times." She shook her head sadly. "It would have been over quickly."

Jack didn't respond. His mind was reeling. He couldn't comprehend the fact that John had died in such a brutal manner; his last moments in the world suffering in unimaginable pain, and either alone, or with an inhuman monster at his side. Jack felt like he was going to be sick.

"Had you known him a long time?" Gwen asked, breaking into Jack's thoughts.

"Almost fifteen years," Jack confirmed as he tried to keep his voice steady. "We met at university, and we've been friends ever since. I've worked with him for the last six years…" Jack's voice broke, and he rubbed roughly at his eyes. "He was my closest friend."

Gwen looked at him curiously. "You went to university here in the UK? And you've lived here since?"

"Yes," Jack replied, knowing that she was wondering about his pronounced American accent. "I was born here in Wales, but I grew up in America. The accent just kind of stuck."

Gwen nodded. "Did he have any family? Next of kin?"

"No, there's no-one," Jack stated evenly. "John's sister died a long time ago. There's no-one else."

"Are you sure?" Gwen pressed.

Jack looked up at her and frowned. "I would know if there was anyone. He would have told me." He shook his head. "His work was his life. His friends and colleagues were his family."

Gwen looked disturbed by that statement. Jack guessed she was part of a large family and probably had a wide circle of friends. "When did you last see him?" she continued.

"Two weeks ago," Jack replied, reaching up and rubbing absently at his temple. "I've been away, taking a break from work. The last time I saw him was the night before I left. I only got back last night."

"What time did you arrive home yesterday?" Gwen asked.

Jack had to think for a moment. "Just after seven PM."

Gwen was writing in a small notepad on her desk. "And were you at home all evening?"

"Yes," Jack confirmed.

Gwen nodded. "And did you have any communication with him while you were away? Or when you returned last night?"

"No," Jack stated emphatically.

Gwen looked confused. "But you said you were good friends?"

"We are." Jack pressed his eyes closed briefly. "We were. I needed some time to myself. I... I'd just received some upsetting news. John understood that I needed time to deal with it. He knew we'd talk when I got back."

Gwen watched him, apparently waiting for him to explain further, but Jack didn't elaborate. "You need to find the sick bastard who did this," he ground out angrily a moment later. "John is… was… one of the most brilliant minds of our time. Whoever did this… they need to pay."

"We'll do our best," Gwen assured him. "Can you tell me if he had any enemies? Do you know of anyone who might have had a reason to want to hurt him?"

Jack shook his head and sighed heavily. "No," he said firmly. "Everyone liked him. Everyone who knew John respected him."

"Okay," Gwen said, giving him a small smile. "I need to have a look around his home, and I'll need to talk to the people he worked with."

"That's fine," Jack replied absently. "I can show you."

Gwen nodded and stood up from her chair. "Can you wait here for a minute? Then we'll head out."

Jack watched as she walked away and spoke to her colleague. He retrieved his phone from his pocket, and with trembling fingers he called Owen to tell him their friend and boss was dead.

[=====]

Jack had taken a taxi to the police station, not trusting himself to be able to drive and get there in one piece, so Detective Cooper drove him back to the bay area. He directed her to John's apartment building. It was only a few minutes by foot from Jack's apartment, and they were both close to the Roald Dahl Plass where their offices were located. They had both enjoyed the convenience of living close to work.

Taking the lift to the fourth and top floor, Jack ushered the detective along a short stretch of corridor to the front door of John's apartment. It was one of only two on that level. It was a large apartment, and the access to it was relatively private. Jack could only recall seeing the elderly married couple who owned the other apartment once before.

"Jack, what sort of work do you do?" Gwen asked as Jack dug out his keys from his trouser pocket. He and John each had a spare key to the other's home.

Jack noted the casual way Gwen had asked the question. He was very aware that she was scrutinising him carefully. "Computer software," he answered simply, choosing the easiest response.

He unlocked the door and they walked inside. "Oh, wow," Gwen said as she looked around the large open plan living area and kitchen. "It obviously pays well."

Jack shrugged. "I suppose," he said as he watched Gwen continue to look around inquisitively.

A shadow of movement caught the corner of Jack's eye, and he whipped around to look down the passage leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. A tall young man with dark brown hair appeared from the doorway of John's study. He turned and moved towards them. He was dressed in a smart, well-tailored, grey pin-stripe suit, an indigo coloured shirt, and a coordinating striped tie. Jack couldn't help but notice that he was extremely handsome, with pale, smooth skin, short, neatly groomed hair, and soulful blue-grey eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" Jack demanded loudly, wondering how in the world this stranger was wandering around John's apartment.

The man's eyes went wide as he looked at Jack, and an expression that Jack couldn't quite discern flashed across his features before they settled into an impassive mask. "Ianto… Ianto Jones," the man replied quietly.

He tentatively reached out his hand towards Jack in greeting.

Jack continued to stare at him suspiciously. He'd never heard that name before, and he couldn't fathom why this man was here and not even attempting to hide his presence. "I'm John's nephew," the young man added in explanation.

Jack gaped at the man in shock, but he endeavoured to compose himself, and finally shook the extended hand. Ianto's hand was soft and warm, but he returned Jack's handshake firmly. "Sorry… I'm Jack Harkness. I worked with your uncle."

"Jack?" Ianto said, staring back at him.

Ianto's accent was distinctly Welsh, and he stretched out the vowel in Jack's name in what Jack had to admit was a very pleasing manner. "John wanted me to meet you," Ianto added.

Jack had to give himself a mental shake as he found himself continuing to stare at the other man incredulously. There was something distinctly familiar about him, almost like a feeling of déjà vu, yet Jack was absolutely certain that he'd never met the man before in his life. "I didn't know John had a nephew," Jack said uncertainly. "I didn't know he had any family for that matter. He never mentioned you."

"Oh," Ianto replied, and Jack noticed that he didn't seem to be particularly surprised.

"How did you get in here?" Jack asked.

"I've been staying here. I arrived a few days ago from Paris. John wanted me to come and work for him. He'd asked me to in the past, but…" Ianto paused and gave a slight shrug, but then his expression became pained. "Well, I finally decided to take him up on his offer."

Ianto glanced over at Gwen who was watching their conversation intently. Jack was speechless. He didn't know which of these pieces of information was more unsettling – that John had a nephew he'd never heard about, or that John had been planning to bring this stranger into their team without first discussing it with him. Eventually Jack found his voice. "You know what happened?"

Ianto looked at Jack sadly, and nodded. "John wasn't here this morning and we'd planned to go out for breakfast… I tried his mobile, but he didn't answer. So then I called the, um… office… I thought he might have worked all night or gone in early." He paused and his voice wavered slightly. "I spoke to Dr. Harper, and he told me what had happened."

Gwen chose that moment to step forward. "I'm Detective Inspector Cooper, Mr. Jones. I'm sorry for your loss."

Ianto turned to look at her. "Er… thank you."

Gwen glanced up at Jack and then looked back at Ianto. "I need to ask you some questions about your uncle."

Ianto nodded tightly. "Yes… yes, of course."

"Jack, can I meet you at your office once I've finished here?" Gwen asked him. "I need to speak to your colleagues as well."

"Sure," Jack replied, feeling relieved to have a reason to excuse himself. He needed some time to think. "If you call me when you're ready, I'll meet you on the Plass by the water tower." He fished out his wallet and handed a card to Gwen. "Here's my mobile number."

Gwen gave him a questioning look. "Our offices are underground. The entrance is tricky to find," he explained.

Jack turned back to Ianto. He stepped forward, and reaching out, he gently touched his arm. "Have we met before?" he asked hesitantly and then cringed to himself. "Sorry, I know that sounds like a bad pickup line. But you seem familiar."

"No," Ianto replied quickly. "No, that's not possible."

Jack noted the tense way that Ianto had responded, but he realised that it was probably due to shock. Jack nodded in agreement. His mind was just playing tricks on him.

Ianto gave him a sad smile. "Despite the awful circumstances, it's good to finally meet you." He paused and lowered his eyes for a moment, apparently trying to compose himself. "John always spoke very highly of you, Jack. I know the two of you were close."

"Yeah, we were," Jack replied quietly, his heart constricting with pain.

But in spite of himself, he found that he was mirroring Ianto's sad smile with one of his own. "Nice to meet you too, Ianto."


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. Hope you enjoy this update! Please review if you can, and I make sure I reply to all reviews (unless you have PM's disabled in which case I can't). Thanks as always to my exceptionally talented beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong> <strong>Chapter 3<strong>**

Jack made a hasty exit from the apartment building and continued on foot towards the Plass. His mind and emotions were in a state of turmoil as he tried to comprehend everything that had happened over the last couple of hours. It was hard to believe that only a short time ago, he'd been looking forward to getting back to work and catching up with John. Instead John was dead, brutally murdered, and a mysterious man had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, claiming to be John's nephew.

None of it made sense, and Jack couldn't help but wonder when the nightmare that his life had turned into was going to end. A part of him almost wished for the tumour in his brain to advance and bring a swift end to his wretched existence.

Lost in his grief and chaotic thoughts, he looked around and realised that he'd reached his destination. He glanced at the nearby water tower, stretching up like a beacon into the dull, grey, morning sky. He tried to focus on the familiar sight of the shimmering, cascading water to settle his tortured mind. Moving over to the nearest bench, he collapsed onto it and continued staring up at the imposing monolith.

He kept thinking about the young man in John's apartment… Ianto. It was an unusual name, and he was certain that he'd have remembered if they'd ever crossed paths before. He certainly would have remembered John mentioning that Sarah, his deceased sister, had brought a child into the world. Ianto had looked at Jack so intently, a strange mixture of uncertainty and hope in his warm blue eyes. Those eyes had seemed to penetrate to the very depths of Jack's soul. The inexplicable feeling that they somehow knew each other remained, unnerving him profoundly as it gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

He reminded himself again that his mind was just playing tricks on him – an attack of delusional paranoia, brought on by his condition. It had happened before and he knew that it was one of the symptoms he'd continue to experience. But acknowledging that intellectually and accepting it emotionally were two very different things.

Rising to his feet, Jack suddenly knew what he had to do. He began walking towards the south-west edge of the Plass and then made his way across to Stuart Street. He stopped in front of a building with a gaudy sign proclaiming it to be the Buffalo bar. He vaguely recalled that he'd been there before, but it had seemed to attract a younger crowd, and he hadn't gone back. The premises were narrow but long, stretching down the length of the block and backing on to Bute Street, with its side brick wall running parallel to Stuart Street. It was the last in the collection of clubs, bars, and restaurants on the block.

With a pounding heart, Jack continued along the street until he reached the rear of the building. He found a backdoor and loading area. It was fenced off and the gate was locked. No-one was around. The police and forensics team had already left. He scanned his eyes over the area, and narrowed in on a section of pale grey concrete around the doorway. A large area of the concrete was stained brown. It was stained with John's blood.

Jack felt his stomach churn violently as he stared at the place where John had taken his final breaths. It all seemed so mundane and commonplace; the sort of tragic end that happened to perfectly ordinary people every day. But John had been an extraordinary man, and for his life to end like that felt fundamentally wrong. John's contribution to the world had only just begun to take shape. And like Jack, John would never get to see the impact of his brilliance and hard work.

With John gone, and Jack on borrowed time, it was possible that their work would never be completed. Jack found the notion that John might never receive the recognition he deserved unconscionable. No amount of justice was going to change that, and nothing Jack or anyone else could do would make the situation better.

Jack choked back an anguished sob and eventually forced himself to turn away. He quickly fled back towards the Plass.

He hadn't noticed the back door of the bar crack open, or that a wiry man with slicked back brown hair and prominent cheekbones had been watching him intently, his eyes narrowed in an expression of curious malevolence.

[=====]

Shaken and breathing hard, Jack made his way to the parking garage behind the Millennium Centre. He reached the access door, swiped his security pass, and entered his six-digit code into the keypad. With a soft click, the light on the panel turned green and he slipped inside. He was soon climbing down a flight of stairs and making his way along a dimly lit stone corridor. The sound of his footsteps echoed loudly as he walked quickly over the rough concrete surface of the floor.

The vast underground space, affectionately known as The Hub, was their workplace, their occasional home away from home, and the place where all their efforts had been based for the last six years. The complex dated back to the later-half of the eighteen hundreds. It served their needs well. It gave them the space they needed, it was secure, and it had the added benefit of its existence being largely unknown. A significant portion of the space had been sealed off, with the remaining area split between offices, labs, a large conference room, sleeping quarters, bathrooms, and rooms housing a vast array of computer hardware. The entire lower level, spread across several large rooms, was dedicated to their servers. The main level, which was located directly below the water tower on the Plass, was the primary work area, consisting of a central cavernous area that led off to all of the other enclosed, conventional spaces.

Jack reached the main area and glanced around the empty expanse. He could see some movement in the conference room on the upper level, and he assumed that everyone had congregated there to discuss the situation, probably all feeling as shocked and distraught as he was. He proceeded to Owen's lab and work area, having noticed the other man at his desk. Owen was sitting motionlessly and seemed to be staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him.

"Hey, Owen," Jack said quietly as he came to a stop beside him.

Owen spun around with surprise and looked up at him. "Jack! Bloody hell! Thank God you're back. What did the cops say?"

Jack shrugged and leaned wearily against the desk. "Nothing really. They're investigating. I had to identify John's body, and they asked me some questions. The detective will be here soon to talk to all of you."

Owen nodded and looked at Jack with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Not even close," Jack muttered. "Jesus, Owen… he was carved up like a piece of meat. No one deserves to go like that. Especially not John. He was…" Jack trailed off, shaking his head and closing his eyes as the terrible image assaulted his mind again.

"He was a genius," Owen finished, his voice unsteady. "He was the best of us. He brought all of us together." He paused as his voice broke. "He saved me… you both did… but John found me… he gave me a chance. It's such a damn waste."

Owen trailed off, his voice catching again. He reached up and rubbed roughly at his eyes. "Fuck. What's going to happen now? Is this the end, Jack? After everything we've all worked for?"

"I don't know," Jack replied sadly. "Maybe this is it. I'm not sure how we go on without him." He paused and then looked out across the Hub. "It doesn't make sense. What was he doing there? It's not the sort of place he'd go to hang out. Me or you maybe… but not John."

"Yeah," Owen agreed. "It seems weird to me too. Maybe he was meeting someone."

"Maybe," Jack conceded. "I don't know who it could have been though." He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. "Did anything happen while I was away?"

Owen glanced up at Jack and then looked away. "He was jacking into the system a lot."

"What?" Jack exclaimed, staring in disbelief at Owen.

"Yeah. I thought you must have known. I told him he was an idiot and it was too dangerous. But you know what he was like. I couldn't stop him."

"It was meant to be me," Jack said with a frown, feeling both hurt and angry that John had gone behind his back. "We talked before I left and we agreed that I'd be the first to try it."

"Seriously?" Owen asked as he looked at Jack in astonishment.

Jack just nodded in reply, not wanting to elaborate. "Were there any problems?"

"Not that I know," Owen replied. "I checked him over after each session… he seemed to be perfectly fine."

Jack stood and paced across the room. "He was always too impatient. Why would he risk his life like that?" He shook his head. "It was meant to be me."

"He believed in it, Jack. He was sure it would work. I guess he needed to see it for himself."

Jack paced back towards Owen. "Did he say what it was like?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah," Owen replied with a hint of a wistful smile playing across his features. "He was so bloody excited. He said it was the most fantastic thing he'd ever seen… that the units were as real as you and me… he said the simulation really was indistinguishable from reality."

"So it actually works," Jack murmured. "At least he got to experience it before…" He stopped as he tried to process this latest revelation. "I'm furious at him for doing it, but at least he died knowing that his work was a success."

Jack tried to imagine how animated and ecstatic John would have been. He smiled sadly to himself as he remembered John's tireless energy and unwavering belief in what they were trying to achieve. "No one else has tried it?" he asked after a moment.

Owen shook his head. "The others don't know yet. He always jacked in after hours when nobody else was here. Except for me. I knew I couldn't stop him, so I stayed and monitored him while he was in there."

Jack nodded distractedly and lowered himself into a nearby chair. "Owen, did he ever talk to you about his family?"

Owen looked startled. "Not really. I know about his sister and that she died. But I didn't think he had anyone else. He never mentioned anyone. Why?"

Jack held Owen's curious gaze. "I met John's nephew an hour ago."

"You're fucking kidding me?" Owen exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"Nope." Jack rubbed at his neck. A dull ache had taken hold at the base of his skull. "Ianto Jones. Handsome guy, mid to late twenties, looks good in a suit. He said he arrived a few days ago and has been staying with John. He said that John invited him to come and work with us."

Owen continued to look at Jack with astonishment. "Jones? I spoke to him on the phone earlier. He was looking for John… said he's been staying with him. But he didn't say anything about them being related." He frowned. "You don't believe what he says?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't have any reason not to. He seems genuine enough. But it seems kind of odd, don't you think? Why did John never mention him?"

"It's bloody weird I reckon," Owen agreed. "Just turning up out of the blue. I can understand John not telling the rest of us, but he would have told you."

"I thought he trusted us, Owen," Jack murmured, feeling his voice catch. "I don't know what to think anymore."

Owen looked at his friend worriedly but didn't say anything further. Silence settled between them. Jack concentrated on the soft background thrum of the surrounding equipment of the Hub as he tried unsuccessfully to settle his thoughts. He wondered if he'd ever know any sense of peace again.

The ringing of his phone broke him from his morose reverie. Clumsily extracting it from his pocket, he answered the call. He reluctantly stood up a moment later and shoved the phone back into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"That was Detective Cooper," he said to Owen. "She's waiting up top. Can you go and tell the others? I'll bring her in through the tourist office. She can use my office for the interviews. And tell everyone that once she's done, they can go home and take a few days off."

Owen nodded and moved off in the direction of the conference room.

Jack took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed and confused. He took a moment to steel himself. Then he walked resolutely through the Hub, and headed back up to the Plass to find Gwen Cooper.


	4. Chapter 4

Early posting this week! Special thanks to everyone who have reviewed, and thanks also to everyone reading and giving this story a go. Hope you enjoy this update. Please let me know what you think of it, and I make sure I reply to all reviews. Thanks as always to my amazing beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong> <strong>Chapter 4<strong>**

"Where do you work?" Gwen asked sceptically, her eyes wide, as Jack unlocked the entrance to the tourist office and they walked inside. "Some kind of underground science-fiction super-base?"

Jack moved across the small room as the door swung closed and the lock re-engaged with a loud click. The deserted space was ostensibly set up as a tourist information centre, but even the most casual glance revealed that it hadn't been used in that capacity for a long time. Yet the pretence served its purpose of providing an alternate entrance to the Hub when required, and a drop off point for takeaway food and other small deliveries. Larger deliveries of equipment were usually taken in via the parking garage.

"Something like that," Jack replied absently as he opened the internal door and ushered Gwen into the corridor beyond.

Jack wasn't happy about bringing the detective into their workplace and having to divulge what they were working on, but he knew that he didn't have a choice. They weren't above the law, and he couldn't refuse her access. She had procedures to follow, and he didn't wish to give her the impression that he was trying to impede the investigation.

They proceeded down a short corridor and into the waiting lift. The lift was modern and brightly lit, in contrast to the rest of the Hub's aging infrastructure. It had been a new addition when they'd moved in, and it provided direct access to the main level along with the first level of the sub-basement. A narrow stairwell ran parallel to the lift shaft, which had always been Jack's preference. He'd never seen the point of using the lift when he had a pair of perfectly good legs, but the others used it regularly.

He leaned wearily against the rear wall as the drone of the lift mechanism filled his ears. Gwen was watching him surreptitiously but with far less subtlety than she probably realised. There was absolutely nothing covert about the detective, Jack decided. He'd always considered himself to be good at reading people, and Gwen's emotions seemed to be readily conveyed in her stance and facial expressions. She was both suspicious of Jack and fascinated with him, in what seemed to be almost equal measure. She remained silent however, and Jack was grateful for the small mercy. He was far too preoccupied to engage in idle banter.

Under different circumstances, he would have been chatting and flirting with enthusiasm, and if John were present, Jack would have been on the receiving end of an indulgent admonishment or a disapproving, yet affectionate glare. The effect of which would only have served to encourage Jack to redouble his efforts. Jack closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his heart constrict. John himself had always been entirely immune to Jack's charms, challenging Jack to rely on his sharp intellect rather than an easy smile and some meaningless honey-coated words to get his way. John had always seemed to have an inherent ability to bring out the best in people, gently challenging them to be the best version of themselves.

The memories of all the happy, light-hearted moments they'd shared seemed very far away. It was frightening, Jack reflected, how quickly a couple of deft blows from fate's hand could change a man, leaving behind only a vaguely recognisable shadow of his former self.

The lift eased to a halt, and the doors slip back with a mechanical groan. Gwen stepped forward into the concrete-walled chamber beyond, and Jack followed her. The space became darker as the doors closed again. Several aging fixtures punctuated the walls, providing a minimal level of diffuse blue-tinted light. A massive round door, shaped like a giant cogwheel, sheathed in ancient copper, and mottled green by oxidation, took up the opposite wall. Jack walked quickly over to the imposing fixture, his footsteps echoing dully across the surface of the bare concrete floor.

He entered his security code. There was a whirring sound and then a loud clunk as heavy locks disengaged. A shrill alarm began to blare to announce their arrival, and then the door rolled slowly to the left with a tortuous grinding noise. It embedded itself into a deep slot in the wall with a final resounding thud, leaving a wide opening into the Hub in its place. A harsh white light fixed in the curved ceiling of the doorway illuminated the entrance.

"This way," Jack said, stepping over the threshold, and then turning to Gwen who was staring back at him with a look of wide-eyed astonishment.

Jack proceeded up the series of metal steps that curved around to the main level, Gwen following closely behind. Her eyes darted around wildly, and her mouth hung open. "This is impossible," she gasped, and then fixed Jack with a questioning glare. "How can all of this exist, and yet nobody knows about it?" she demanded.

Jack sighed at the typically Welsh response. "Who would believe that something like this could be right under their feet, and in Cardiff of all places?"

Gwen didn't look convinced. "But there must be people other than you lot who know about it?" she argued.

"Of course there are. But we keep a low profile, and anyone else – tradespeople and the like – they're paid to be discreet." Jack looked at her warningly. "I'd appreciate it if you can do the same. If word gets around, it could jeopardise our security and what we're trying to accomplish here."

"And what is that exactly?" Gwen asked sharply. "I might not know much about computers, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the average set up for a software company."

"No, I suppose not," Jack conceded.

He hesitated, wondering how much to reveal to the persistent detective. He quickly realised that if he avoided her questions, she'd only drag the details from one of the others anyway.

Jack breathed out heavily. "John was onto a whole new frontier… a computer-generated reality, entirely autonomous and indistinguishable from our own. He believed it would allow us to experience life in new ways and gain a better understanding of human behaviour." He paused and looked across the vast space as a fresh wave of grief took hold. "John wanted to change the world," he added quietly, his voice catching.

Gwen's expression was a mixture of scepticism and intrigue. She looked like she was about to ask another question, but with a clatter of footsteps, Owen approached them, providing a welcome distraction. He came to a stop next to Jack, and looked at Gwen curiously. Jack gave him a tight smile, grateful for his friend's timing.

"This is Owen Harper," Jack said to Gwen. "Owen, this is Detective Inspector Gwen Cooper."

"That's _Doctor_ Owen Harper," Owen groused, and then shook Gwen's hand as she gave him a polite smile in return.

Jack ignored his colleague's prickly retort. "Owen, can you talk to the detective first. I just want to have a word with the others and see how they're doing. Then I'll be taking the rest of the day off."

Owen nodded and gestured towards Jack's office as he started walking towards it. Gwen didn't immediately follow him. Instead, she looked up at Jack curiously.

Jack met her gaze and gave her a pleading look. "Will you let me know as soon as you find the monster who did this?"

Gwen's eyes were determined. "Yes, of course."

Jack nodded, and turning away, he made his way upstairs.

[=====]

"So, what is all of this?" Gwen said to Owen as she stood at the window of Jack's office and looked out at the myriad of equipment scattered around the work areas. "A giant computer game? You plug yourself in and you're in a different world?"

Owen shook his head as he leaned against the edge of the desk. "Not exactly. It doesn't require user interaction, and the environment isn't generated around a single user's point-of-view." He paused as Gwen turned to look at him. "It's more like an alternate universe, but it's virtual. The unit's don't know it isn't real. They think they're living in the real world."

Gwen frowned. "Units?"

"Simulated people," Owen explained. "They populate the system. They're just like us. They eat, sleep, drink, work, shag…"

"They shag?" Gwen asked, looking both shocked and intrigued.

Owen nodded. "Yeah, I bet some of them shag themselves senseless. They're just like us… they've got the same needs, drives, and desires that we have. And they're just as fucked up as we are too."

Gwen seemed to think about that for a moment. Then she looked puzzled. "But how do you use it?"

"Cortical interface," Owen replied succinctly. "You select one of the program units, you download into the system, and your consciousness is transferred into the unit. You become that person within the simulation. Meanwhile, your body holds the unit's consciousness."

Gwen blinked. "You plug your brain into a machine? And if something goes wrong?"

"There are safeguards of course, but anything as radical as this has risks." Owen shrugged nonchalantly. "Most scientific advancements come at a price."

"It all sounds…" Gwen began but shook her head, looking lost for words.

"Bloody insane?" Owen suggested. "Like one of those dodgy Hollywood sci-fi movies with the cool special effects and a storyline chock full of plot-holes?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Gwen replied with a shrug.

"Can't argue with that," Owen agreed. "When John first told me what he wanted to do, I thought he was a total nutter. Maybe that's the sign of a true genius. But he never doubted it was possible."

Gwen's expression became curious. "What will happen now?"

Owen breathed out a weary sigh. "Dunno. I suppose we have to pick up the pieces and keep going. Jack pretty much runs the show anyway. He keeps us on the straight and narrow. But this has hit him hard."

"Jack said they were close," Gwen said, watching Owen carefully.

"Yup. Best mates," Owen said firmly. "They started all this together… before the rest of us came along."

Owen pushed away from the desk and slid down onto the nearby chair. He rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Did you know that John Smith had a nephew?" Gwen asked after a moment.

Owen looked up abruptly. "This Jones bloke? No, not until Jack told me half an hour ago. I spoke to him on the phone when he called looking for John, but I didn't know who he was. John never talked about any family."

Gwen moved around the desk and sat in the opposite chair. She extracted a notepad from the inside pocket of her jacket and paused to glance at her notes. "When was the last time you saw John?"

"Last night," Owen answered quickly. "We were working late. We finished up just after nine o'clock. He left, and I headed out a few minutes later."

Gwen raised her eyebrows. "You were both working on a Sunday night?"

"John had some test results he wanted to go over," Owen explained with a shrug. "We don't normally work on Sunday, but he was keen to go through them, so he called me in."

Gwen looked satisfied with that. "Did he say anything about where he was going? If he was meeting anyone?"

Owen shook his head. "No, not a word. I just thought he was going home."

"Did he seem okay?" Gwen continued.

Owen's expression turned thoughtful. "As far as I know. He was a bit distracted, but he was often like that. He looked tired, but he'd been putting in a lot of hours."

Gwen looked at him steadily. "And that was the last time you saw him?"

"Yeah," Owen replied with a nod. Then he looked at Gwen in shock. "Bloody hell. That makes me the last one of us to see him alive!"

"Probably," Gwen agreed noncommittally. "And what did you do after you left here?"

Owen lowered his eyes and didn't reply for a long moment. "I went over to a friend's place. Stayed the night."

"And the name of this friend?" Gwen asked evenly.

"Toshiko Sato," Owen replied reluctantly. "She works here. She's upstairs with the others."

Gwen was silent for a minute or so as she wrote down some notes. Then she looked up at Owen and gave him a tight smile. "All right. Can I speak to Miss Sato next?"

[=====]

Jack reached the door to the conference room. He took a deep, steadying breath, and tried to suppress his raging emotions. Forcing his features into an expressionless mask, he walked through the doorway.

"Hey, guys," he offered quietly as he looked around the table at the faces of his friends.

He was met with seven pairs of eyes, all staring at him with looks of disbelief, confusion and sadness. Tosh jumped from her chair at the far end of the long conference table, and moving forward, she pulled Jack into a hug.

"Oh God, Jack," she murmured into his chest as he held her tightly in return.

Jack pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I know, Toshiko," he whispered brokenly. "I know."

Tosh pulled away from Jack after a moment, and sitting back down again, she brushed a stray tear roughly from her face. Jack eased himself down into his chair at the head of the table with a sigh.

"What's going on, Jack?" Alex asked after a moment. "Do the police know anything yet?"

Jack shook his head. "The detective is here now. She's talking to Owen. I don't think they have any leads yet. I guess it's too soon."

Alex looked like he wanted to say something further, but after staring at Jack for a moment, he simply nodded and looked away.

They all sat in silence for what seemed like several very long minutes. Jack was completely lost for words. He knew that he should be trying to say something to help reassure his colleagues, but he was struggling hard enough just to keep his own emotions in check.

"I don't know when the funeral service will be," he began eventually, breaking the silence. "I'll let you all know when I do. It will probably be towards the end of the week."

He looked around at each of them. "In the meantime, if any of you need anything… or if you want to talk… just give me a call." He looked around the table again, and then stood up. "Take care of each other. He'd want us to do that."

Receiving various mumbled acknowledgements in return, Jack turned away and walked slowly out of the room. He'd almost reached the cogwheel door when Tosh caught up with him, hurrying down the stairs and across the metal walkway.

"Jack, wait," Tosh said as she came to a stop in front of him and looked up. "I just wanted to say… if you want to talk, or just want some company anytime… we're all here for you too. You don't have to deal with this on your own."

"Thanks," Jack replied gratefully.

Tosh looked back at him thoughtfully. She leaned in, and tilting her head upwards, kissed Jack's cheek.

Jack gave her a small but genuine smile, touched by her kindness. He began to turn away but then looked back at her. "Did John say anything to you recently? Did he seem okay?"

Tosh looked thoughtful. "He seemed a bit on edge the last few days. Distracted. But no, he didn't say anything. I asked him a couple of times if everything was all right. He said he was fine." She frowned slightly. "I thought he was just nervous about trialling the system."

"Yeah, that's probably all it was," Jack agreed quickly.

They looked at each other for a moment, and then with a brief nod, Jack turned away and retreated through the door, leaving Tosh staring after him with a puzzled expression.

Jack made his way up the stairs and back to the tourist office, lost in his tangled thoughts and feeling even more confused. He was soon outside again. He took several deep breaths and then moved over to the railing at the edge of the pier. Staring out across the grey, moving water below, he began to shiver as the chilled breeze from the bay nipped at his exposed skin. Jack stood there for ten minutes or so, just staring blankly ahead, until the cold numbness of his body seemed to match the bleak emptiness that pervaded his soul.

Rubbing a hand roughly over his face, and forcefully shaking himself back to awareness, Jack grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket. He needed answers, and there was only one person left who might have them. He dialled John's apartment and waited impatiently for an answer.

A deep Welsh voice answered hesitantly. _"Hello?"_

"Ianto? Hi, it's Jack. Can we meet somewhere? We need to talk."


	5. Chapter 5

I decided to post a bonus chapter for the weekend. Hope you enjoy it! Please review if you can and let me know what you think of it. Thanks as always to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

The pub was almost deserted, which wasn't particularly surprising as it was scarcely eleven o'clock on a Monday morning. Although Jack wasn't much of a social drinker, it was his favourite of the bars and pubs in the vicinity of the Hub. It had a timeless, understated charm that he'd always appreciated, unlike many of the more contemporary places that seemed to be trying too hard to stand out from the competition.

Sitting in a booth towards the back of the room, he nursed a glass of scotch in his hands as he reflected on his conversation with Owen. Every exchange he'd experienced that morning had seemed to reveal some new horror or astonishing revelation. He didn't think he could handle anything more, and he was somewhat amazed that he'd managed to maintain his composure to the extent that he had over the last few hours.

In many ways, it wasn't a great surprise that John had been downloading into the system. John had always been impulsive, and ultimately, it had been his right. In hindsight, it was only fair that John was the first to experience the culmination of their work, yet Jack couldn't help but feel betrayed. Deep down he knew it wasn't logical to feel that way, but he'd wanted to shoulder the responsibility. It had been the one thing he'd had left to give, the last wish of a dying man, and John had taken that away from him. Although, he had to concede that perhaps he was irrationally angry at John for getting himself killed.

He was tired, his mind was in turmoil, and his heart felt tight and painful in his chest, battling for dominance with the intensifying ache in his skull. Closing his eyes for a moment, he wished that oblivion would just take him. He wanted to drift away into the darkness, casting off all the pain, grief, fear, and confusion. Feeling his eyes begin to burn, he blinked several times, finally using the pad of his thumb to roughly clear them. He raised his glass to his lips and took a generous swig of the dark amber liquid. It was his second glass, but he knew it was going to take more than a few shots of strong liquor to dampen the crushing feeling of despair.

The door of the pub opened and a suited figure crossed the threshold. Ianto moved hesitantly into the room and looked around, scanning the sparsely illuminated interior. After a moment, he spotted Jack and gave him a little wave of greeting. Jack nodded in reply as he watched the other man carefully. Ianto faltered for a moment, and then walked over to the bar. Ordering a drink, he handled over a couple of notes from his wallet, and collecting his glass with a polite smile, he turned towards the rear of the pub where Jack was sitting.

The blonde bartender stared at Ianto appreciatively as he made his way towards Jack, her eyes wandering over the length of his body. Jack suspected that Ianto was one of those people who were completely oblivious of the effect they had on others. In Jack's experience, the obliviousness only served to make the person in question even more appealing. And as Ianto made his way gracefully towards him, Jack couldn't deny that there was definitely something captivating about the enigmatic Welshman.

Jack flashed a disapproving glare at the bartender, and she quickly looked away. Ianto eased himself into the seat opposite Jack and put his glass down neatly on the wooden table, having taken care to place a coaster securely beneath it.

Jack studied the other man closely, still trying to decide what to make of him. He hoped that by meeting with Ianto in a more relaxed setting, he might be able to get some answers.

Ianto met Jack's gaze and looked back at him intently. Jack had to give him credit for appearing to be completely unintimidated. Ianto's youthful, clean-shaven face seemed to be in contrast to the maturity and intelligence that radiated from the depths of his vivid blue eyes. Jack noted that something in the intensity of those blue depths reminded him of John. He could see the same potent mixture of determination, passion, and strength that John had possessed in abundance.

Jack had little doubt that he was looking at a man of great complexity and depth, but with an innately guarded nature. And yet, there was also something comfortable and almost disarming about him. Somehow Jack knew that many of the qualities he'd admired so much in John were also abundantly present in this inscrutable young man.

Ianto seemed to be about to say something, but then settled on giving Jack a small, sad smile. He took a tentative sip of his drink and then settled the glass back down on the table.

Jack knew he was still staring, but he couldn't seem to pull his eyes away. He was once again struck by Ianto's physical appeal. His eyes trailed over Ianto's well-defined cheekbones, attractive button-shaped nose, and slightly downturned pink lips. While Jack wasn't that way inclined, he could appreciate a good-looking man who took care of himself and made an effort to look his best.

"Bit early for me," Ianto said quietly, causing Jack to break away from his musings. "But, given the circumstances…" He shrugged apologetically and looked down at his hands.

"Yeah, me too," Jack agreed, not knowing what else to say. "Thanks for meeting me here, Ianto."

Ianto nodded. "Of course. I'm glad you called."

He gazed at Jack with an expression of concern. Ianto reached across the table and settled his hand gently on top of Jack's. "How are you holding up?"

Jack looked at Ianto in surprise as he felt the soft warmth of the other man's hand settle pleasantly over his skin. It was such a simple gesture, yet it felt strangely familiar and intimate. Jack looked down at the pale hand with its long, elegant fingers. Ianto's hand was beautiful, almost delicate, yet distinctly masculine. It was a hand, Jack decided, that was eminently talented – capable of both great tenderness and, under extreme conditions, uncompromising brutality. Much like its owner, Jack suspected.

Apparently feeling that he might have overstepped their boundaries, Ianto slowly pulled his hand away and wrapped it gently around his glass again. Jack immediately regretted the loss of contact, sadly realising that the brief, comforting touch was probably the most pleasurable thing he'd experienced in quite some time.

Jack breathed out a weary sigh. "Honestly? I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Ianto nodded, and his eyes were compassionate. "That's understandable."

Jack looked at him curiously. "Did John tell you anything? Did he talk about the project?"

"No," Ianto replied, a furrow forming between his neatly groomed eyebrows. "I know about the work you're doing and what you've achieved so far… but we hadn't really talked since I arrived. He was at work all the time." His frown deepened. "Well, I assumed he was. He wasn't at the apartment."

"And last night?" Jack asked.

"I didn't see him. I went over to Newport to have drinks with some old school mates. I didn't get back until late, and he wasn't home when I got in."

"So, you have absolutely no idea what he's been up to for the past few days?" Jack demanded sharply, more anger in his voice than he'd intended.

Ianto took another sip from his glass. He looked genuinely distressed. "I'm sorry, Jack. I can't give you any answers."

Jack nodded, but he couldn't help feeling disappointed. Either Ianto was being evasive and hiding something, or he was as much in the dark as Jack was. Jack scrutinised the other man's features, looking for any hint of duplicity. If Ianto was lying, he was exceptionally good at it.

"It just doesn't make sense," Jack said, feeling agitated.

Ianto gave him a questioning look. "What do you think happened?"

"That's the problem," Jack replied, not managing to keep the frustration out of his voice. "I don't know what to think. Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the way he was killed… it doesn't seem to fit. And what was he doing there?"

"Perhaps he went for a walk, felt like a drink, and that was the nearest place?" Ianto suggested with a hint of tentativeness.

Jack wasn't convinced, and Ianto didn't seem to be either, but Jack had to concede that it was the mostly likely scenario. "I suppose that's possible," he agreed reluctantly.

"So, what will happen now?"

"With the project?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow as he considered the question. "I don't know. It was his life's work, and there are the others to think about too." He shook his head. "But right now I can't imagine going on without him. Although, it might not be my decision to make."

"Ah. The mysterious benefactor." Ianto's expression turned thoughtful. "Do you know who it is?"

"No," Jack admitted. "Not definitely, but I have an idea who it might be. I suppose whoever it is will make contact in due course."

Ianto looked down at his glass and was silent for a long moment. "You don't trust me, do you?" he said eventually, looking back up at Jack.

"I don't know you," Jack replied evenly. He decided there was no point in being circumspect. "You have to admit it's damned strange that John never once mentioned you."

Ianto shrugged. "We were never close. I wasn't really a part of his life, and I've been away for a long time."

"You grew up in Wales though?"

Ianto nodded. "Yes. In Newport."

Jack lifted his glass to his lips and took a sip as he tried to make sense of it all. Every indication was that John would have been proud of his nephew. "Why did you leave?" he asked.

Ianto looked uncomfortable, and for a moment Jack thought he wasn't going to answer. "I left after my mother died," he eventually replied, a flicker of pain ghosting his features. "Except for John, there was nothing left for me here, and he was always buried in his work. I decided to get away… start a new life. I stayed in London for a bit, and then moved to Cambridge and started following in John's footsteps."

Ianto gave Jack a wry smile. "It must run in the family. After I graduated, I travelled around for a while, and ended up in Paris." He closed his eyes briefly, and his expression became sorrowful. "John always kept in touch, mostly by e-mail… he always made sure I was okay. I think he was disappointed that I left. He was a good man though."

"He was," Jack agreed. "The best I've ever known."

Ianto gave Jack a gentle smile. "You were his best friend, Jack. He thought the world of you. Never forget that."

Jack wanted to believe that was true. He tried to return Ianto's smile, but he didn't trust himself to reply. "Is there anyone else I don't know about?" he asked instead.

"Nope. Just me," Ianto replied sadly. "End of the line."

"Sorry," Jack said and meant it, realising his question had been rather insensitive.

"It's okay," Ianto reassured him quickly. "What about you?"

Jack nodded. "A younger brother, but he lives in the States with his family. We don't really talk to each other."

"You were born in America?" Ianto asked, looking curious.

"No, here in Wales actually," Jack explained. "But I grew up in America. Hence the accent."

"I like it," Ianto said with the hint of a grin. "It's… distinctive. Well, around here anyway."

Jack wasn't sure if Ianto was teasing him, but his expression was sufficiently impassive so he couldn't tell for sure. He decided that Ianto seemed to be sincere. "Thanks."

"Jack…" Ianto began, but hesitated. "Is it all right if I keep staying at the apartment? Just until I get somewhere else sorted."

Jack was startled by the question. He hadn't even thought about the practicalities of dealing with John's estate. He wondered if John had left everything to Ianto, and it seemed a logical assumption. "Yeah, sure. It's probably yours now anyway."

Ianto looked surprised, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. "Maybe. John might have left it to you."

Jack supposed that was possible. While Ianto seemed to be very self-reliant, he was John's only family, and depending on what happened, Ianto was potentially without a job. It was Jack's responsibility to make sure Ianto was looked after, regardless of any provisions John may have made. As arguably the two most important people in John's life when he died, they were connected.

"If he did, I'll make sure it's yours," Jack said firmly. "I don't have any use for it… it should belong to you."

"Thank you," Ianto replied. He didn't smile but he looked genuinely grateful.

Silence settled between them as they finished their drinks. Jack was on the verge of asking Ianto about organising the funeral arrangements when the pain in his head intensified. He winced as it lanced across the back of his skull.

"Jack, are you all right?" Ianto asked, looking concerned.

Jack winced again, and pushed himself onto his feet. "Yeah, it's just a headache. I get bad ones from time to time," he deflected.

As he stood, the room began to spin wildly. He pressed his eyes closed to block it out. Ianto was immediately on his feet and at Jack's side. "Whoa," he said as he put his arm around Jack to hold him steady. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jack mumbled as he carefully opened his eyes.

The room was steady again, and he started making his way to the door. Ianto stayed at his side, pushing the door open for him.

"Do you want to go home?" Ianto asked as they made their way outside. "I'll walk back with you."

Jack pulled away, and Ianto stepped back slightly. "You don't need to," Jack replied. "I'll be fine."

Ianto looked at him sceptically but held his ground. "I'll feel better knowing you got there safely. Come on, let's get you home."


	6. Chapter 6

Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Please review if you can and let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone reading this and also to those who have kindly reviewed so far. It's really appreciated. Thanks as always to my brilliant and dedicated beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Jack walked slowly across the Plass, making his way towards his favourite coffee shop on Mermaid Quay. He'd been more than a little surprised when Ianto had phoned earlier that morning and suggested they meet for a cup of coffee. He'd also surprised himself by agreeing to the invitation so readily.

Ianto had further astonished him by suggesting that they meet at this particular coffee shop. It was the only one in the vicinity that Jack considered worthy of his ongoing patronage. He'd sampled every coffee place in the surrounding area at one time or another, and in his opinion, this particular shop made by far the best coffee. Jack wasn't a particularly fussy person in most ways, and while he wasn't a coffee connoisseur, he knew what he liked, and he appreciated a good cup of coffee.

It had barely been twenty-four hours since Ianto had escorted him home from the pub. They'd stood at the entrance to Jack's building, and Jack had been taken aback by the degree of concern Ianto had shown for his wellbeing, despite having only met him hours earlier. Ianto had seemed genuinely worried about him, and while Jack could easily imagine that Ianto was a deeply compassionate man, his worry had seemed disproportionate for someone who was, for all intents, a total stranger.

Jack hoped that Ianto didn't feel obligated to look after him because of his friendship with John. He didn't want sympathy from anyone, especially not from a man who had apparently meant so little to John that he hadn't even warranted a passing mention. Yet John's heritage lived on in Ianto, and no matter how distant or even estranged they might have been, Jack felt certain that John would have wanted the two of them to get to know one another. Assuming that Ianto had told him the truth, John had apparently intended for them to meet and begin working together.

The coffee shop came into view as Jack continued along the wide thoroughfare of the Quay. The shop was relatively small and not at all ostentatious. It was nothing like the flashy franchises with their sub-standard coffee and over-inflated prices. Jack appreciated the sincerity of a business that prided itself on providing excellent service and a quality product, rather than shiny signage and fixtures.

He spotted the object of his thoughts sitting at one of the tiny outside tables. Feeble rays of sunlight were managing to push through the dense clouds overhead, and the air was relatively mild and calm, providing fairly favourable conditions for sitting outdoors. Ianto's gaze found Jack, and he stood up as Jack approached the table.

"Morning, Jack," Ianto offered in greeting, a cautious smile ghosting his features.

Jack attempted to return a wan smile. "Hey."

Jack took a moment to take in Ianto's appearance. He was again dressed in a well-cut and expensive suit. This one was a shade or two darker than yesterday's, but still accented by a subtle pin-stripe, and accompanied by a deep burgundy shirt with a coordinating red and black striped tie. The overall effect was striking, and Jack couldn't help but allow his gaze to linger over the long lines of Ianto's slim but well-proportioned body.

"How are you feeling?" Ianto asked, looking at him worriedly.

Jack mentally shook himself and met Ianto's eyes. "Better, thanks," he managed to reply.

Ianto's expression cleared to a degree, but he didn't look entirely convinced. "I'll just go and fetch our coffees, shall I? What would you like?"

"Um… I'll have a cappuccino. Thanks."

Ianto nodded. "Back in a minute."

As Jack sat down, he watched Ianto move purposefully towards the shop's door and easily navigate through the surrounding tables and customers. Jack looked out across the bay and breathed in deeply, hoping the fresh air would help to ease his troubled mind.

He'd had another blackout the day before. After saying farewell to Ianto, he'd made his way up to his apartment and downed several painkillers, unwisely following them with a couple of shots of scotch. He remembered collapsing onto his sofa and flicking on the television to quell the silence. The tears had started soon after that, quickly becoming uncontrollable howls of raging despair. However, the remainder of the day and night were a blank. The next thing he'd known, he'd woken up sprawled across his bed, naked, disoriented, and with a pounding headache again. He'd only been conscious for a couple of minutes when his phone had begun to ring, and he'd been greeted by Ianto's dulcet tones.

He really was losing his mind, he thought, and as his condition deteriorated, he knew that it was only going to get progressively worse. The cocktail of medications he was currently taking – bevacizumab, steroids, and ibuprofen – could only do so much to keep his symptoms at bay.

Ianto returned a moment later. He gently placed a plate, fork, and napkin in front of Jack before sitting down and settling his own plate on the metal table. Jack looked down at his plate, surprised to see a familiar, decadent-looking chocolate muffin.

"They'll bring our coffees out in a minute," Ianto said as Jack looked up at him. Ianto gestured at the Jack's plate. "Thought you might be hungry."

Jack was silent as a vague sense of uneasiness drifted over him. He realised that Ianto had noticed the confused look that must have been on his face. "Is something wrong?" Ianto asked him.

Their coffees arrived at that moment, interrupting their conversation. Ianto smiled at the barista and thanked her as she placed their drinks on the table and quickly moved away. "Jack?" Ianto repeated.

"It's my favourite," Jack eventually replied. "The muffin. This is my favourite place for coffee, and sometimes when I come here, I treat myself to one of these." He looked at Ianto pointedly. "How did you know?"

Ianto shrugged slightly, but he hesitated before replying. "John told me this was the best place around here. I'm a bit particular about my coffee. The muffin was just a lucky guess. Chocolate's usually a safe bet."

Jack watched as Ianto began to carefully dissect his own muffin – blueberry and banana – into uniformly equal bite-sized pieces. Jack picked up his cup and took a small sip, closing his eyes and savouring the rich, aromatic flavour.

He looked back at Ianto and watched him curiously. "And coffee's the only thing you're particular about?" he teased, not quite able to prevent his mouth from twitching with amusement.

"Well, yes…" Ianto began, glancing down at his plate and then looking up at Jack sheepishly. "No, I suppose not."

Jack surprised himself by letting out a gentle chuckle. "A fastidious nature and an eye for detail aren't exactly bad qualities to have. And I've always admired a man with discerning tastes."

Ianto lifted an eyebrow. "Are you flirting with me, Jack?"

Jack realised with complete astonishment that it was exactly what he'd just done. He felt an immediate stab of guilt, but couldn't deny that it had been nice not to think about anything else for just a moment. "Sorry," he said quickly. "That was… inappropriate."

"It's okay," Ianto assured him, taking a sip of coffee. "I don't mind."

Jack nodded, but didn't say anything further. He just sipped at his own coffee, and then tore off a chunk of his muffin before pushing it into his mouth.

Ianto sat there calmly, nibbling at his muffin and watching Jack surreptitiously.

Feeling awkward, Jack raised his hand up and rubbed at his face distractedly, grimacing as his day-old stubble prickled roughly over his fingers. He hadn't shaved since yesterday morning, he suddenly realised. He'd forgone that step of his morning routine in his haste to escape from the confines of his apartment. That was practically unheard of for him. He hated not being cleanly shaven. It always made him feel shabby and unkempt. He'd never thought it was a good look for him, and he felt it was indicative of someone who simply couldn't be bothered to make an effort. Unlike a lot of men, he didn't think that a day or two of facial hair did anything to accentuate his attractiveness.

His clothes had similarly been thrown on with little thought – a pair of faded jeans, dark blue t-shirt, and an old worn leather jacket. Jack was sure that his bleary eyes and the dark circles under them weren't doing much to improve his appearance either. Meanwhile, Ianto was sitting opposite him, face closely shaven, suited, and groomed to perfection.

"I know I look like crap," Jack blurted out suddenly. "You've only just met me, but I don't usually look this bad."

"You look fine, Jack," Ianto said with a hint of amusement playing in his eyes. "You're very handsome."

Jack snorted. "Has anyone ever told you you're an incredibly good liar?"

Ianto grinned impishly. "Probably."

Silence settled between them again. Ianto chewed on a piece of muffin, his expression thoughtful. He gestured at Jack's hand. "You're not married?"

Jack shook his head. "No."

"Girlfriend?"

Jack shook his head again. "No. There's no-one."

"Sorry," Ianto said, lowering his gaze.

"It's okay." Jack shrugged. "It's for the best. I've never been good at relationships."

Jack thought back briefly over the string of failed relationships in his life. He'd usually managed to move on before things became too complicated. The reality was that he'd just never found anyone he'd cared enough about to want to hang around and try to make a proper go of it. And since deciding to work with John, he'd pretty much stopped trying. Instead, he'd preferred to find the occasional willing companion for some casual, uncomplicated sex. But eventually, even that had lost its appeal.

"How about you?" Jack asked, taking advantage of the opening to find out more about the other man.

Ianto looked pained. "There was someone," he replied slowly. "I thought I'd found the person I'd spend the rest of my life with. We were happy… but he…" A look of anguish passed over Ianto's features, and he shook his head. "He changed. He became cold… distant… cruel. I didn't recognise him anymore."

Jack couldn't hold back his surprise when Ianto's casual use of the masculine pronoun registered in his thoughts. "You're gay?"

Ianto pulled a face and shifted uncomfortably. "No. I've… er, I've only been with one man. Before him, I'd had a few girlfriends. But then I met him, and it was… well, it was only him. It was weird at first, but…" He trailed off and shrugged. "I suppose most people would say I'm bisexual, but I don't like to label myself like that. You can't help who you fall in love with, and their gender shouldn't matter." Ianto sighed. "It took me a long time to accept that."

Jack nodded. "It's a pity more people don't think that way."

"It doesn't bother you?" Ianto asked cautiously.

"No, not at all," Jack replied.

Ianto looked relieved. "So, you're… um, you've only been with women?"

Jack didn't reply immediately. He wondered if a couple of drunken fumbles during his early university days counted. He doubted they did by Ianto's definition, given that he'd apparently been in a serious and presumably long-term relationship with another man. Jack had only ever dated women, but he'd always considered himself to be fairly open to new possibilities. While he'd never been particularly attracted to other men, he'd also never been entirely opposed to the idea of having some fun with a man. He didn't find the idea distasteful, although if asked, he would have declared himself as heterosexual. Perhaps it was simply that the right person had never come along for him to consider broadening his outlook.

"Yeah," he answered eventually.

He winced inwardly at his hesitation and realised that Ianto had probably decided that Jack was a bit confused about his sexuality. Not that it mattered, he thought. Given the fact that his days were severely numbered, it was a bit late to decide that he wanted to start shagging men. He wondered for a moment if he'd been missing out and if he might have actually enjoyed it. But it was just one more thing in a long list that he'd never have the chance to experience.

Ianto didn't press further, for which Jack was grateful. He gave Jack a gentle smile.

"Are you going to stay in Cardiff?" Jack asked, changing the subject.

"Yes," Ianto confirmed. "I've got nothing to go back to. I think this is where I'm meant to be now."

"That's good. That you're staying, I mean," Jack stated, surprising himself by realising that he meant it.

Ianto shrugged. "This is the closest thing I have to a home."

Jack could wholeheartedly relate to that. While he'd spent over two thirds of his life living either abroad or elsewhere in the UK, Cardiff was the only place he thought of as his home.

"Jack, I was wondering… did John ever find anyone else?" Ianto asked hesitantly. "After Rose? He never mentioned anyone."

Jack shook his head sadly. "No. After Rose left, he threw himself into his work. He never talked about her again, but I don't think he ever stopped loving her. As far as I know, there was never anyone else."

Ianto looked saddened. "I'd hoped he might find someone."

"Me too," Jack agreed. "I know he got lonely."

They stared at each other for a long moment before Jack turned away and looked out towards the water. It was obvious that Ianto had realised Jack wasn't only talking about John.

Ianto broke the silence a minute or so later. "I spoke to the coroner this morning," he began quietly, his voice tentative. "They expect to release John's body tomorrow. I was planning to go to the funeral place later to sort out the arrangements, but I wasn't sure if you…" He broke off uncertainly.

Jack took a deep breath and looked back at Ianto. "I'll come with you. If that's all right?"

"Of course," Ianto agreed quickly.

Despite the unpleasant reality of dealing with the funeral arrangements, Jack felt a measure of relief. He hadn't been looking forward to doing it, and at least he wouldn't have to go alone.

They finished their drinks and food in relative silence, and then made their way back towards their respective apartments, walking side by side. Jack agreed to meet Ianto once he'd confirmed a time with the funeral home. He offered to drive since Ianto didn't have his own car, and wasn't keen on using John's SUV.

In spite of himself, Jack found that he was enjoying Ianto's companionship and quiet, undemanding presence. Ianto didn't seem to expect anything from him, and Jack found that some of the weight pressing relentlessly down upon him had eased for just a little while.

He was beginning to consider the possibility that they could become friends. As he recalled the way that Ianto had smiled at him earlier with warmth and genuine concern, he discovered that the notion was strangely comforting.


	7. Chapter 7

Early post this week. This chapter takes a darker turn towards the end, just a warning that it might be disturbing to read. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. And thanks as always to my fantastic beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Jack unlocked the front door and entered his apartment, with Ianto following behind. He hadn't specifically invited Ianto to join him, and under different circumstances he might have been annoyed by the younger man's presumptuousness. However, for the moment, he was simply grateful for the company. Jack toed off his shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and shrugged off his jacket. Ianto did the same, albeit removing and arranging his shoes in a far more fastidious manner. Jack hung both of their jackets up on the coat rack.

They moved silently down the hallway and into the combined kitchen and living area. It was late afternoon, and with the natural light fading, the space was dim and shadowy. The room felt eerily foreboding, and Jack shivered despite the warmth of the surrounding air. He quickly flicked on some lights to help banish the gloom.

After parting ways during their earlier walk back from the coffee shop, Jack had tried to pull himself together to face the remainder of the day. He'd shaved, and then changed into a clean shirt and suit, taking more time than was necessary to sort out his hair. Feeling a little more like his usual self, he'd paced nervously, a sick feeling of dread pooling in his stomach. Ianto had eventually phoned to confirm that they had an appointment for two-thirty that afternoon.

The trip to the funeral home had been painful for Jack. They'd met with the owner, a stocky Welshman in his thirties named Rhys Williams, who, while professional and sincere, had been nothing like the austere and dispassionate undertaker Jack had been expecting. They'd also discovered that, coincidentally, Rhys was the husband of Gwen Cooper. Jack had tried not to ponder on that strange irony.

The man's easy going and down to earth nature had set Jack on edge, and he'd ended up sitting numbly as Ianto took charge, carefully going through the arrangements for the service and burial. Ianto had kept a close eye on Jack the entire time, obviously watching for any sign of undue distress. The details were quickly worked out with minimal input from Jack, and the service was set to take place at eleven o'clock on Saturday morning, followed immediately by the burial. John was to be buried in a plot next to his sister, Sarah, in accordance with John's wishes. Jack had known that John had been close to his sister and had visited Sarah's grave on each anniversary of her death. It had given Jack a small measure of peace knowing that John's wishes were being carried out.

But Jack had felt the tenuous threads of his resolve failing as they'd chosen John's casket. As if sensing Jack's distress, Ianto had silently reached for Jack's hand and intertwined their fingers, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Ianto had quickly made a selection, and with Jack's approval, and the arrangements finalised, they'd said goodbye to Rhys and promptly departed.

With Jack visibly upset, Ianto had settled him into the passenger seat and driven the car back to the apartment, parking in Jack's allocated space in the building's underground car park. Then they'd made their way upstairs.

Jack took a steadying breath as he came back to the present. He filled the kettle as Ianto gazed around the space. "Very nice," the younger man commented.

Jack flicked the kettle on as he turned to look at Ianto. "It's not very big," he said, thinking that it probably seemed small in comparison to John's much larger apartment. "But the living area and main bedroom are good sizes, and I use the second, smaller bedroom as an office." Jack shrugged. "It's enough for what I need."

"I like it," Ianto added, continuing to look around at the fairly minimal but tasteful, contemporary furnishings.

"Coffee?" Jack suggested, but then looked at Ianto doubtfully. "Um… I only have instant though."

Ianto pulled a face and looked vaguely horrified. Jack couldn't help but be a little amused by Ianto's exacting standards. "Er, how about tea, then?" Ianto countered.

"Sure," Jack agreed.

He pulled out two mugs from a cupboard; his usual blue and white striped one for himself, and a plum coloured one for Ianto. Then he hunted for some teabags. He wasn't much of a tea drinker, but he usually kept some decent teabags on hand for when he felt he'd exceeded his coffee quota for the day. "Have a look around if you like," he suggested. "Just ignore any mess you find along the way."

Ianto nodded and wandered off towards the other rooms.

Finding the teabags, Jack stared at the dome-shaped kettle, lost in his thoughts as he waited for it to boil. A couple of minutes later it began howling, and a dense cloud of steam surged upwards, hitting the glass splashback along the kitchen wall and condensing into tiny droplets. A moment later, the orange light at the base of the kettle blinked off accompanied by a loud click as the switch jumped back to its off position.

Jack was filling their mugs when Ianto reappeared at his side. "Milk or sugar?" he asked, glancing up at Ianto before dumping a spoonful of sugar into his own mug and giving it a quick stir.

"Neither, thanks."

Jack nodded distractedly. He jiggled the teabags up and down for a minute or so, then squeezed them out and tossed them into the bin under the sink. Picking up the mugs, Jack retreated to the sofa and placing them down on the elliptical glass coffee table, he slumped down onto the soft leather with a weary sigh.

Ianto followed after a moment and sat down next to him, looking somewhat ill at ease. They sat in silence for several minutes as they sipped their tea.

"Thanks for being there today," Jack murmured, turning his gaze to Ianto's face and meeting his eyes briefly before looking down into his drink again. "I don't think I could have handled that on my own."

Ianto edged closer and gently rested his hand on Jack's knee. "We're in this together, Jack. Whatever happens, you're not alone."

Closing his eyes, Jack wished that was true. He could never remember feeling more lost and alone. Without thinking, he rested his own hand on top of Ianto's and relished the warmth of Ianto's skin as it radiated against his leg and up into his hand. Ianto's touch gave him something tangible to cling to, and he felt the last vestiges of his resolve fall away. It felt like Ianto was giving him permission to openly grieve. It was several minutes later before he opened his eyes and realised that he was crying.

"Jack?" Ianto said, his voice low and filled with concern.

Putting down his mug, he moved closer to Jack and, extracting his hand, wrapped his arm tightly around Jack's shoulder. With his other hand, he took Jack's once again and meshed their fingers together.

"Sorry," Jack mumbled and wiped roughly at his face. "After today… I suppose it all just seems more real now. It's finally hit me that I'll never see him again."

"It's okay, Jack," Ianto continued softly, and Jack instinctively leaned into the Welshman's embrace. "It's okay to let go."

Jack wasn't sure how long they sat huddled together. His tears continued unabated for what seemed like hours. In reality it was probably only fifteen minutes or so. Part of him recognised that he needed this. He needed to purge his pent up emotions if he was going to make it through the next few days. Ianto simply held him and allowed his emotional outpouring without excessive worry or fuss. He seemed to understand that there were no words to be said, and that Jack didn't want to hear trite platitudes. While John wasn't the first loved one for whom Jack had grieved in his life, he suddenly realised that John would very probably be the last.

Feeling more cognisant, Jack gave his eyes a final wipe and eased himself from Ianto's embrace. He gave the Welshman a hesitant half-smile. He wasn't sure what to say. "Thanks, Ianto," he settled on, feeling awkward and vulnerable.

Ianto seemed to sense that Jack needed some space and he rose to his feet. Jack also stood, his legs momentarily shaky at first, but he quickly collected himself. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" Ianto asked him.

"I'll be fine," Jack replied, deciding that he sounded far more confident than he felt.

Ianto nodded and made his way to the door. He slipped on his shoes and jacket and then turned back to look at Jack, his eyes steady and searching. "I'll see you again soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," Jack confirmed, attempting a forced smile.

Ianto looked at Jack uncertainly for a moment, and then seeming to make a decision, he moved forward and pulled Jack into a firm hug. Jack tensed with surprise but quickly relaxed into the embrace and clung unashamedly to the other man. They stayed that way for a minute or so. Jack knew he couldn't have done this with any of the others. He was the boss, their leader, and he had to be strong when he was with them. It was different with Ianto. He could be broken, vulnerable, and honest. He still wasn't certain if he could trust Ianto, and yet he felt inexplicably safe with him. It didn't make sense, and Jack wasn't sure if it was because Ianto was a stranger, or because Ianto was connected to John, or if it was something else entirely. Regardless of the reason, it felt good to simply be comforted by someone who seemed to genuinely care.

Ianto eased away, and with a final ghost of a smile, he nodded to Jack and slipped out through the door. Jack took a deep breath and stood there for a long moment, imagining Ianto's warmth still surrounding and soothing him.

It was several hours later when Jack retreated to his bedroom, feeling exhausted and emotionally shattered. He slipped out of his clothes, leaving them in an untidy pile on the floor, pulled on some pyjama bottoms, and crawled into bed. He'd managed to eat a pre-made meal from his freezer earlier, followed by his medications and a couple of drinks before zoning out in front of the television for a few hours. As his thoughts had wandered, Jack had decided that his next step was to go back to the Hub and review the logs of John's trips into the simulation. It would have to wait until the morning though. First, he needed some rest.

With a deep sigh, Jack pulled the covers tightly around him and buried his head in the thick pillows. Jack closed his eyes and sleep soon claimed him.

_He walked silently down the dark side street, a cold smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He flexed his fingers, and the soft leather of his black gloves stretched sensuously across the backs of his hands. His long, dark wool coat wrapped around his body, while its tails flapped gently in the cool night air. The collar was pulled up high, cradling his neck and obscuring his face from the harsh glow of the irregularly spaced street lamps._

_This was his playground, his world. The only rules that mattered were his own. Shrouded in darkness, he could allow his true self to emerge, free and unencumbered. All pretence slipped away. He was untouchable, and completely without mercy or compassion._

_He picked up his pace, moving closer to the evening's first prey. His excitement grew, and his heart pounded in his chest as adrenaline surged through his body. The rush was intoxicating; better than alcohol, sex, or drugs. She was close, so very close now. He lengthened his strides. She'd seen him and had started to run, but the combination of a little too much alcohol, stiletto heels, and a tight skirt gave him a distinctly unfair advantage. His smile widened._

_She stumbled on the uneven paving, and before she could recover, he was upon her. He pushed her roughly up against the nearby brick wall, pressing his body hard against hers, easily fending off her feeble attempts to escape. He was strong… he was always stronger and faster. Once he'd selected his prey, they never escaped… except when his desire was to play and torment… but that was only when his hunger wasn't quite so desperate._

_He wrapped his gloved fingers around her throat, his face almost touching hers, leering at her with a malignant smile. His breath mingled with hers, and he could smell her fear – almost tasting the terror as it rippled through her body. He shivered with anticipation. She tried to scream, but he tightened his grip, squeezing just hard enough to prevent the sound from reaching her mouth. He looked into her terrified, tear-filled eyes, and revelled in her realisation that these were the final moments of her worthless existence._

_He squeezed harder, and she began to choke, her eyes going wide as she frantically tried to draw air into her lungs. He leaned in closer, and his smile grew. Her fingers scraped uselessly against his gloved hands as he slowly wrung the life from her. He took his time. He knew exactly how to extract the maximum amount of pleasure out of each kill. He laughed in delight as the inevitable moment approached._

_Then it abruptly happened… with a final weak shudder as her lips moved silently in a futile plea for mercy, her eyes went dull and her body slumped lifelessly in his arms._

_He sighed as he lowered the body to the ground. Pausing, he looked down with appreciation at her frozen, contorted features, and blank, unseeing eyes. He turned, and swiftly moved away. Flexing his fingers again, he resumed stalking along the narrow street. He felt satisfied, but not completely sated. He'd need to find at least one more victim before the night was over._

_He reached an abandoned shopfront and paused. A street lamp opposite illuminated the area. He turned and looked into the window and saw the reflection of a tall, handsome, dark haired man. Grinning at his image, his blue eyes dancing with malevolence, he turned away and continued forward into the darkness again, searching for new prey…_

Jack woke abruptly, a scream tearing from his throat as he sat up and frantically reached to turn on the bedside lamp. He was drenched in sweat. Breathing rapidly, he tumbled off the bed and onto the floor, scrambling across the room and into the corner. He pulled his legs up against his chest and looked desperately around the room with wide, fearful eyes.

The room was empty, but he could still hear the echo of maniacal laughter ringing in his ears.


	8. Chapter 8

Bonus chapter for the weekend! Hope everyone enjoys it, and please review and let me know what you think. Thanks as always to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Jack's panic from his nightmare eventually began to recede, and he managed to push himself upright by leaning heavily against the adjacent wall. He took several deep breaths and rubbed a shaky hand across his face. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest as he looked down at his trembling hands in horror. The dream had been incredibly vivid this time – every sight, sound, and sensation impossibly sharp.

It had felt more like a memory, something deeply buried, but finding shape in his subconscious mind. Everything had seemed so terrifyingly real. He shook himself mentally and tried to push the awful images from his mind. It was just a dream he told himself repeatedly, merely a dark fabrication of his damaged brain and fractured psyche.

He'd had similar dreams sporadically over the last several months, so the experience wasn't new to him, but the emotional intensity seemed to increase with each occurrence. He dreaded to think what the next one might be like. However, he had learned was that once he had awoken, the nightmares wouldn't return again until several days later. He just had to hope that the pattern continued, allowing him at least a brief reprieve.

Feeling disoriented, he glanced at the bedside clock and noted it was almost five AM. He took another deep breath and pushed away from the wall. He made his way into the bathroom to take a long, hot shower.

Fifteen minutes later, he walked back into the bedroom, a soft white towel wrapped around his waist. He felt calmer. The warmth of the cascading water had helped to settle his mind and allow him to think more rationally. The trembling had ceased, and he started to feel a little foolish at the intensity of his reaction to what had, after all, only been a bad dream.

He quickly stripped and remade the bed with clean sheets. Tossing the towel aside, he climbed back under the covers and curled up on his side. The clean, cool sheets were soothing against his bare skin. He focused on his breathing and fought to clear his tangled thoughts. Slowly, he settled into an uneasy sleep.

[=====]

It was after ten o'clock by the time Jack had reached the Hub and was settled at his desk with the cup of strong coffee he'd bought on the way.

He powered up his workstation, signed in, and accessed the logs for the simulation. It only took a minute or so to discover that they had been wiped clean. In theory, he should have been able to find entries for each of John's visits into their virtual world, along with records of every program unit he had interacted with. He could only assume that John had erased the logs so that none of the others would discover what he'd been doing. Knowing it was futile, Jack ran a file recovery program over the drives used for log storage, but as he'd expected, all the unused sectors had been completely overwritten. He wouldn't have expected anything less from his friend. John had been a genius, and he certainly wouldn't have failed to ensure that he did the job thoroughly.

Next, Jack accessed John's work files, his email account, and his personal files. But after trawling through all of the data for over an hour, he'd found nothing out of the ordinary. If John had been up to anything clandestine, it seemed that he'd covered his tracks flawlessly.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Jack rose from his desk and moved over to stand at the window. He gazed out over the darkened Hub. It was strange to see it so deserted and lifeless. He shuddered involuntarily, again feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness and despair.

He took a cursory look around John's office, but as expected, he didn't find anything of significance. He knew he had to accept that he was looking for evidence of something that didn't exist. His paranoia was simply conjuring up wild ideas of sinister machinations, when the truth was probably far simpler, and unsatisfyingly mundane. He just wasn't ready to accept that yet.

Jack exited the Hub via the tourist office. He was frustrated that his search had yielded nothing. He didn't know what he'd expected to find, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that there had to be something he was missing – some vital piece of information that would make sense of everything that was happening. He couldn't help but think that if only he hadn't gone away for those two weeks, everything might have been very different, and John might have still been alive.

He wandered aimlessly across the Plass. It was a typically dull, grey day in Cardiff, and the heavy clouds overhead threatened a deluge of rain before the day was done. He vaguely thought about getting some lunch, the empty feeling in his stomach reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the day before. Gazing around at nothing in particular, he was surprised to see a familiar figure sitting alone on the large steps at the edge of the oval-shaped expanse. He turned and made his way towards him.

"Ianto?" Jack said as he came to a stop close beside the other man. Ianto was staring off into the distance and hadn't seemed to notice his approach.

Ianto blinked and looked up at Jack. "Jack… hello. Sorry, I was miles away." He stood up and gave Jack a soft smile. "How are you?"

"I'm doing okay," Jack replied. He looked Ianto up and down. "I almost didn't recognise you."

Jack wasn't being entirely untruthful. Ianto was dressed in dark, slightly faded jeans with a black leather studded belt, a casual white cotton shirt accented by a vertical black motif, and a black denim jacket. The outfit was a stark contrast to the pristine tailored suits of the previous two days. Jack couldn't help but stare for a moment, his eyes settling on the patch of pale flesh revealed by the open collar of Ianto's shirt. The top two buttons were unfastened, providing a teasing glimpse of a smattering of dark hair.

Ianto looked momentarily confused. He glanced down at himself and then back up at Jack, finally giving him a grin. "I do own clothes other than suits you know."

An innuendo filled retort was on the tip of Jack's tongue, but he tried to hold it back. "I'm not complaining. You look good. Really good, actually."

He smiled, surprising himself as he realised just how attractive he found the younger man. It wouldn't have been much of a stretch to say that he thought the Welshman was downright gorgeous. "I do like the suits though," he added cheekily.

Ianto seemed a bit flustered, but he quickly regained his composure. "Oh… er… thanks."

Their eyes locked, and Jack felt his breath catch in his chest. His body tensed as he was once again struck by the intensity behind Ianto's captivating blue eyes. Ianto cleared his throat and Jack breathed in deeply.

"Are you hungry?" Ianto asked, stepping back slightly and looking out across the Plass. "I was about to get some lunch."

"You read my mind," Jack replied, feeling grateful for the change of subject. "I'm starving. What do you fancy?"

"Fish and chips," Ianto declared, looking at Jack uncertainly as if he was worried that the older man would reject such a commonplace suggestion.

Jack's stomach rumbled in anticipation. "Perfect. I know just the place."

They made their way along the Quay and ended up at a small establishment tucked away at the far end of the thoroughfare. It wasn't the flashiest of take-away food shops, but he'd been there several times before, and he also knew that it was one of Owen's favourites. There were a few people inside, but the worst of the lunchtime rush seemed to have passed. They went inside, and Jack ordered two servings of fish and chips, asking for them to be wrapped separately, and grabbed two bottles of water from the nearby refrigerator. He handed over a couple of notes in payment and collected his change, smiling at the middle-aged lady who had served him.

Jack moved over to join Ianto where he was waiting off to the side, looking around the modest interior curiously. Noticing Ianto moving to extract his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, Jack admonished him with a wave of his hand. "Oh, no you don't. My treat. You paid yesterday, remember?"

"That was only coffee," Ianto protested.

"And muffins. Anyway, it doesn't matter," Jack said firmly. "If it makes you feel better, you can pay next time."

Ianto seemed slightly surprised, and Jack realised the implication of what he'd just said. The Welshman graced him with a brief but sincere smile. "Okay. Thanks, Jack," he said simply.

They didn't have to wait long for their order, and at Ianto's suggestion, they ended up back at the large steps on the Plass, sitting side by side and tucking into their food. Jack had been more famished than he'd thought, and made short work of his fish, enjoying the fresh flavoursome meat encased in crunchy batter. Ianto ate more slowly, but he seemed to be enjoying it equally.

Jack let out a sigh as he popped his final chip into his mouth and screwed the paper wrapping up into a ball. "That was delicious," he commented appreciatively. "It's been a long time since I've had a treat like that."

Ianto offered his parcel to Jack. "Here, have some more chips."

"Sure?"

"Yep. I've got too many anyway."

Jack didn't need telling twice. He reached into the neatly torn opening and snagged a handful of chips. "Thanks," he mumbled after popping several into his mouth.

Ianto nodded and paused to take a mouthful of water before finishing off the rest of his food. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he extracted several napkins and passed a couple of them to Jack.

"What were you thinking about earlier?" Jack asked as he rubbed his hands clean and wiped at his mouth. "You looked like you were far away."

"Reminiscing," Ianto said quietly as he stared out into the distance. "I used to come here with my dad. They showed kid's films on Saturday morning at the cinema. The Electro on Hope Street. I loved going there. Afterwards, we'd come here and have fish and chips."

Ianto paused and then sighed. "Dad worked all the time. I never saw him much, but that was the time we had together. Just the two of us. It was nice. But it didn't last… I got a bit older, and he started having health problems. He passed away a couple of years after that. Heart attack."

"I'm sorry," Jack said gently.

Ianto shrugged. "It's okay. It's a long time ago now. But being back here… seeing all this again. It brings back some memories."

Jack didn't know how to respond, so he remained silent, but he felt his heart tighten with Ianto's words. Ianto was so young, and he'd already suffered many losses. Much like himself, Jack thought, although he had a few extra years on Ianto to help dull the pain.

"Come on, how about we go for a stroll around the bay?" Jack suggested after a moment, trying to think of a distraction for both of them.

Ianto turned to him, his expression pensive, but then his features relaxed and he smiled. "All right."

Collecting the detritus from their lunch, Ianto dropped it in a nearby rubbish bin as they headed towards the water, passing the Millennium Centre on their way. The temperature dropped a little as they walked, and the breeze increased, biting at their exposed skin. Jack found the brisk sea air to be a refreshing distraction. They didn't talk much, but the silence was companionable. Neither of them seemed to feel the need for meaningless chatter.

It was twenty minutes later, when they'd stopped to look out over the water, that the sky darkened, and thick drops of rain began to cascade down upon them. There was no shelter in the immediate vicinity, and within moments, the rain had quickly turned into a heavy downpour.

"Let's head for my place," Jack said, having to raise his voice to be heard. "It's closer."

Ianto nodded, and they set off in the direction of Jack's building. Jack set the pace at a brisk jog, with Ianto matching his speed a step behind. Jack's apartment was only a couple of blocks away, so it didn't take them long to reach the entrance, but by the time they did, they were both soaking wet and gasping for breath. The rain continued unabated as they stood under the cover of the doorway and looked out across the bleak, rain-slicked streetscape. A deep rumbling emanated from the distance, and the sky grew even darker.

"Bloody hell," Ianto mumbled. "This is one thing about Cardiff I didn't miss."

Jack chuckled. "You'll get used to it again soon enough. You might as well come upstairs and get dried off."

Ianto ruefully wiped at his face and ran his hand over his hair, pushing back the dark locks that were plastered against his forehead. He peeled off his sodden jacket and attempted to shake off the excess water. Jack shook his head vigorously, sending water flying in all directions, and then he tugged off his jacket as well. Jack unlocked the door, and wiping their feet on the mat inside the threshold, they made their way to the lift.

A few moments later, they entered Jack's apartment. Mirroring their actions from the previous day, they removed their shoes, and Jack hung up their wet jackets. He attempted to spread them out over the coat rack so they'd dry faster.

Jack turned around to face Ianto. The younger man was standing close to him. Ianto was still breathing heavily, his face slightly flushed and his mouth partly open. His eyes were wide and they stared back at him, conveying an emotion that Jack couldn't quite discern. Jack took an involuntary step forward, and their faces were only a few inches apart. He stared hard into Ianto's eyes, and found that he was unable to look away. He drew in a deep breath as his heart pounded in his ears.

"Jack…" Ianto whispered.

Jack wasn't sure who made the first move, but then their mouths collided, and they began kissing each other desperately. Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack, one clasped firmly around his neck, while the other curved around his torso. Jack settled his hands over Ianto's hips as Ianto pushed him backwards and up hard against the wall.

Jack groaned with pleasure and deepened their kiss, exploring Ianto's mouth enthusiastically. He brought his right hand up and caressed a smooth cheek as he revelled in the taste of the other man. The warmth of Ianto's damp skin felt sensuous against his fingertips. He shifted his hand down to cradle Ianto's jaw as he continued to stroke his thumb softly over the well-defined cheekbone. Ianto's hand moved teasingly over the base of his neck in response.

Ianto's lips were surprising soft, yet demanding, as they moved effortlessly against his own. The barest hint of stubble at the edges of Ianto's mouth served only to heighten the experience. Ianto let out a deep groan as their kiss continued, and Jack pushed against him, trying to increase the contact between their bodies as their wet clothes stuck to their skin.

Eventually they broke apart, both gasping for air. Ianto looked a bit dazed, and Jack wondered if his own expression looked similarly bewildered. They remained close, holding tightly onto each other as they stared deeply into each other's eyes.

Ianto gave Jack a knowing but affectionate grin. "So, uh… you're not quite straight after all?"

"I suppose not," Jack admitted, feeling a smile of his own pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Ianto's eyes had grown dark with desire. "I have to admit… I'm really not unhappy about that."

Jack's smile broadened. Part of him acknowledged that he probably should feel stunned at having just snogged another man senseless. But he found that he didn't really care, especially not when kissing Ianto had felt so incredible… yet somehow strangely comforting and familiar.

"Me neither," he readily agreed.

Before Jack could form another coherent thought, Ianto leaned in closer, and they kissed hungrily again.


	9. Chapter 9

As expected, there's not a lot of plot development in this chapter. I've never written anything like this before, it's more explicit than I usually like to write, but it seemed appropriate to the style of this story. Hopefully it's not too awful or boring to read. Thanks as always to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. Special thanks to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Jack reluctantly broke their kiss as he felt a violent shiver course down the length of Ianto's body. Lost in the moment, they'd both forgotten that their clothes were drenched from the earlier dash through the rain.

"We'd better get dried off," Jack suggested, his face still close to the younger man's. "Come on. You can borrow some of my clothes."

Ianto looked uncertain, but then he nodded and followed Jack down the hallway and into the master bedroom. Jack ducked into the en-suite and returned with two large white towels, passing one to Ianto. Jack rubbed the towel furiously over his hair, leaving it sticking out in all directions. Ianto looked at him with an expression of amusement, and then patted more sedately at his own hair.

Moving to the wardrobe, Jack grabbed a pair of dark blue jeans and a blue shirt. As an afterthought, he pulled out an empty carrier bag from a stack he kept on the top shelf, stored there with some boxes and various other odds and ends.

"These should fit okay," he said distractedly as he grabbed a grey t-shirt and another pair of jeans for himself. He jiggled the bag before he closed the wardrobe door. "You can put your wet things in here to take home."

It was at that moment that he turned around and found himself confronted by a mostly naked Ianto. The younger man had stripped off his shirt, jeans and socks, and he was in the process of folding them into a neat pile.

Jack felt his breath catch. He froze, staring unabashedly over the lean form of the Welshman's body. An impressive expanse of dark, silky hair adorned his attractive but not overly toned chest, and trailed downwards to spread out over a flat stomach. It was an alluring contrast to his pale, unblemished skin. A pair of black boxer briefs hugged his trim waist whilst displaying the bulge of a prominent erection.

Ianto stepped towards Jack and gave him a tentative smile. "Ianto, I…" Jack began but stopped, unsure of what to say.

Jack moved over to the bed and put the bundle of clothes down before turning back to the other man. Ianto leaned in, and wrapping his arms around Jack's waist, he kissed him softly. Jack didn't hesitate to return the kiss, losing himself for a moment. But then he pulled back, feeling deeply conflicted. Ianto frowned and looked at him with concern.

Jack wasn't sure what was about to happen, or what Ianto might expect from him. Jack enjoyed sex, and he liked to think that he was rather good at it. But while he considered himself fairly adventurous and open-minded, this was new and more than a little intimidating. He realised that he found the idea of being with another man arousing, especially someone as young, good-looking, and obviously willing as Ianto. And he couldn't deny that there was some sort of connection between them, even though he didn't understand how that was possible.

However, Jack was inexperienced, especially in comparison to the Welshman. Furthermore, they were both grieving, and had only just begun to forge a tentative friendship. Past experience had taught him that sex always complicates things, and Ianto was likely to be a part of the remainder of his life, whether by choice or necessity. It wouldn't just be a random encounter with someone he'd never have to see again.

Nonetheless, amidst his confused thoughts and feelings of guilt, he selfishly wanted a fleeting moment of pleasure – even if only for an hour or two. It might even be his last chance to enjoy intimacy with another person. With his life falling apart around him, he felt that he deserved a respite, no matter how brief it might be.

Jack tried again. "I don't want to take advantage of you… of this situation."

"It seems more the other way around at the moment," Ianto countered wryly, his eyes locked with Jack's. "We're both consenting adults, Jack. There's no reason why we can't enjoy being together if that's what you want." He paused, and his features turned pensive as Jack remained silent. "But you're grieving. We both are." Ianto reached down towards the pile of clothes on the bed. "Perhaps I should go."

Feeling a sudden surge of panic, Jack reached out and caught his hand. "No. Ianto, don't go. Stay… please."

Ianto turned back and looked at Jack searchingly. "All right," he agreed after a moment.

Jack smiled and tried to push his concerns away. Perhaps Ianto was right, he thought. Maybe they both needed this. He couldn't deny that he was aroused, as evidenced by the uncomfortable tightness in his trousers. Without further preamble, he unbuttoned and stripped off his shirt, tugged off his socks, and peeled off his damp trousers, tossing them in an untidy pile on the floor. Ianto stared at Jack's body with an expression of open admiration. Then they were wrapped in each other's arms again, kissing passionately.

Jack quickly became lost in sensation as Ianto's bare chest pressed against his own and their erections ground together through the confines of their underwear. Ianto's fingers traced down his spine and pushed past the waistband of his briefs, teasing the soft skin beneath.

A moment later, with his underwear discarded, Jack gasped against Ianto's mouth as he felt warm fingers gently massage his balls and then stroke along his hard length.

"Is this okay?" Ianto asked him as they pulled apart breathlessly.

Jack nodded in reply.

"Lie down on the bed, Jack. On your back."

Jack quickly pushed back the covers and sprawled down on the bed. He looked up at Ianto, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The younger man stripped off his underwear, revealing himself completely, and Jack stared up at him, utterly enthralled.

Ianto climbed on top of Jack and plundered his mouth hungrily. Jack's arousal intensified as their bodies moved against each other. Ianto's solid weight pressed down on him, overwhelming his senses with the other man's warmth, scent, and taste. Jack moaned with disappointment as Ianto pulled away several moments later. Ianto moved downwards, trailing kisses across Jack's chest and over his stomach. He looked up at Jack and grinned playfully as he spread his hands out over Jack's hips. Then he traced his tongue along the length of Jack's erection before taking him deep into his mouth.

As Ianto's hot, wet mouth surrounded him, Jack's entire existence was reduced to the incredible sensations Ianto was eliciting from his body. The younger man was supremely talented, and he seemed to know exactly how to suffuse Jack's body with every nuance of pleasure.

Time seemed to slow, and Jack moaned Ianto's name repeatedly as he felt himself spiralling closer and closer to his climax. Finally, he couldn't last any longer. "Ianto…" he gasped. "Can't hold on… I'm gonna come…"

Ianto hummed in acknowledgement, and continued enthusiastically. Jack threw his head back, his hands fisting the sheets, and with a deep groan, he came hard in Ianto's mouth. He watched in fascination as Ianto continued to suck on him, capturing every last drop of his release.

Jack was breathing rapidly as Ianto moved up the length of his body and settled next to him. Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack and brought their mouths together in a searing kiss, allowing Jack to taste himself.

They broke apart, and Jack licked the lingering taste from his lips. "I can't remember the last time I came that hard," he murmured.

"You enjoyed that then?" Ianto asked with a smile, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Oh, yeah," Jack replied with a grin.

He looked down at Ianto and saw that he was achingly hard. The head of his erection glistened in the dim light. Jack reached down and stroked slowly, relishing the deep moan of pleasure he received in response as Ianto nuzzled against his neck. "Let me take care of that?" Jack asked hesitantly.

"Please, Jack," Ianto breathed out.

Jack rearranged the pillows behind him and pulled himself up, spreading his legs, and helping Ianto to settle against his chest. He wrapped his left arm tightly around Ianto's torso, and with his right hand, he began to slowly stroke up and down the length of the younger man's arousal. He spread the fingers of his left hand over the opposite side of Ianto's chest, and gently teased the nipple, drawing it into a firm peak. He wasn't sure what Ianto liked, so he settled for doing what he himself enjoyed – occasionally twisting his fist, rubbing the tip of his thumb over the leaking head, and pausing between every few strokes to caress Ianto's balls.

Ianto's breathing became more rapid, his left hand settling over Jack's hip while his right clutched at the sheets. He lifted his head from where it had been resting against Jack's shoulder, and they kissed deeply. "Harder, Jack…" he groaned.

Jack increased his pace, tightening his fist and pumping hard. It wasn't long before Ianto tensed, and with a powerful shudder, he throbbed in Jack's hand, his release spilling out onto his stomach and over Jack's fingers.

Ianto slumped against Jack with a contented sigh. "That was… intense," he murmured, pressing a kiss against Jack's throat. He reached for Jack's hand and bringing it up to his mouth, he lapped at Jack's fingers until they were clean.

They lay there in silence for a while, nestled against each other, kissing languidly as the rain continued to fall, pattering against the thick windows. The sound was soothing, and for just a moment, Jack could almost believe that there was nothing wrong with his life. He imagined his world reduced to the two of them tucked away in his bedroom, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, and with nothing to do except to discover new heights of pleasure.

Jack captured Ianto's mouth in a deep, indulgent kiss, and pulled Ianto on top of him. He wasn't ready for this to be over yet. He could feel Ianto's renewed arousal pressing against his own. "Again," he whispered against Ianto's lips.

Ianto seemed to have the same idea. Their eyes met and Ianto seemed to understand what Jack needed. He smiled affectionately, and then with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he flipped over onto his back, pulling Jack on top of him. Jack rested on his elbows and stared down into Ianto's eyes.

Ianto reached his hand down between them and wrapped their erections in a tight fist. Jack moaned in pleasure as Ianto began to stroke slowly up and down. "Together this time?" he murmured.

"Yeah," Jack replied incoherently as Ianto's mouth joined with his again.

Ianto's other hand traced over the back of Jack's neck, continuing slowly down his spine, and then over his hip. It settled on his backside, caressing gently. Ianto continued to stroke firmly with his other hand. Jack rocked his hips, thrusting into Ianto's fist, rubbing firmly against him. He was overcome with heated desire as they continued to kiss, Ianto's tongue pushing deep into his mouth.

It took only a few minutes before Jack knew that he wouldn't last much longer. He was almost painfully hard, and the feeling of their erections grinding together, slick with pre-come and trapped within Ianto's firm grasp, was indescribable. It seemed impossible that this was their first time together. It was as if Ianto knew Jack's body and what he liked almost as well as Jack did himself. He'd never experienced an immediate connection like this with anyone before.

Ianto must have sensed that Jack was close, and he slowed his strokes to a more languorous pace. Jack whimpered against Ianto's mouth, desperate for release, but wanting the experience to last for as long as possible. He felt a warm finger begin to rub gently against the tight ring of muscle as his entrance, causing a shiver of pleasure to surge up his spine. He pushed back against the questing finger, trying to intensify the sensation. His lust inebriated mind managed to consider what it would feel like to have Ianto's talented fingers pushing inside of him, stretching, twisting and probing. The provocative thought pushed him over the edge, and as Ianto stroked once more, he erupted with a gasp, coming hard over Ianto's stomach and chest.

Jack breathed raggedly against Ianto's mouth, and with two more hurried strokes, Ianto's hips surged upwards and he climaxed. He growled out Jack's name and kissed him fiercely as his release shot out over his fingers and onto his stomach.

With trembling arms, Jack pushed himself off of the other man and collapsed down next to him. He pulled Ianto into his arms and held him close. They were both breathing rapidly, their chests heaving as their lungs worked to draw in oxygen. Jack pressed his face against Ianto's neck and breathed in the intoxicating masculine scent. He trailed his hand down Ianto's chest. His fingers tangled in strands of damp chest hair before reaching their combined releases and spreading it across Ianto's torso, matting the soft, dark hair against warm, sweat-dampened flesh.

Pressing a kiss to Ianto's lips, Jack then moved down, taking a nipple into his mouth and lapping it clean with his tongue. He repeated the action on Ianto's other nipple and then trailed downwards to do the same with his belly button. The younger man wriggled slightly and let out an appreciative moan. Jack moved back up and took Ianto's hand, cleaning that as well before he found Ianto's mouth again. They kissed slowly, sharing their taste. Jack had never imagined that this new experience could be so erotic.

After another minute or two of leisurely kisses and caresses, Jack settled back against the pillow with a sigh, feeling exhausted but pleasantly sated.

Ianto turned to look at him a moment later. "Not too weird then? Being with another man?"

"God, no," Jack replied, and he knew that he meant it.

Despite his initial concern, his feelings of guilt, and being somewhat overwhelmed, he'd loved every moment. "That was…" He paused as he tried to search for an adequately descriptive word. "That was incredible."

"Yeah," Ianto murmured. "It was." He chuckled as he looked down at himself and trailed a finger over his slicked chest. "You seem to like getting me messy though."

"Are you complaining?" Jack asked archly, not quite managing to hide his smile.

Ianto grinned back. "Nope."

He rested his head on Jack's shoulder, and Jack wrapped his arms around him. The room was silent except for their gentle breathing. Jack looked out the window and realised that the storm had passed.

"It's stopped raining. I… uh… I should go," Ianto murmured as he pressed his face against Jack's neck and breathed in deeply.

Jack tightened his grip slightly. "You don't have to."

"No, I should." Ianto sighed. "Can I use your bathroom to clean up?"

Jack nodded, feeling a little disappointed. "Sure. Help yourself."

Ianto pressed a soft kiss to Jack's mouth before he extricated himself from their embrace and climbed off the bed. Reaching down, he grabbed his underwear and the clothes Jack had found for him earlier, and padded towards the en-suite. Jack raised himself up to rest on his forearms, and stared at Ianto's naked form, enjoying the view until he disappeared from sight. He relaxed back onto the bed with a sigh. His mind was filled with possibilities. There was so much more he wanted to do with that beautiful body, and so much he wanted that body to do with him. He just wasn't sure if they'd ever get the chance.

Ianto returned a few minutes later, dressed, and with his hair looking a little less unruly. The shirt was a couple of sizes too big for his slender frame, and the jeans were loose, but he'd rolled up the shirt sleeves and his belt kept the jeans secured around his waist. The colour of the shirt, a deep cobalt blue, suited him, and seemed to intensify the stormy blue depths of his eyes.

Jack swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. He patted the space beside him and gave Ianto a pleading look. Ianto smiled and sat down next to him.

Jack reached up and traced his fingers along Ianto's jaw, the hint of dark stubble prickling pleasantly against the pads of his fingertips. He was surprised at how sensual it felt to touch another man like this. He continued stroking gently as Ianto closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, his lips parting slightly. Jack bought his other hand up and cradled Ianto's face before leaning in and kissing him. Ianto responded willingly and Jack deepened the kiss, savouring the moment and not wanting it to end.

Finally Ianto pulled away, a gentle sigh passing over his lips. He gave Jack a sad smile.

"When can I see you again?" Jack asked quietly, cringing inwardly at the neediness in his voice.

Although he was uncertain what this was between them, and where it was going, if anywhere, he felt a spike of anxiety. He wondered if Ianto might see it merely as a regrettable, grief-fuelled encounter, rather than the possibility for something more meaningful.

"Not tired of me yet?" Ianto teased.

"I like being with you," Jack admitted, surprising himself with his honesty. "Tomorrow?" he suggested quickly before he lost his nerve.

He was starting to feel vulnerable. The fact that he was naked, while Ianto was fully dressed wasn't particularly helping. "You could come over for dinner? Maybe a movie afterwards?"

The corners of Ianto's mouth curved upwards. "Jack, are you asking me on a date?"

Jack could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He wondered how it was that this mysterious man could manage to keep him so uncertain and off-balance. "Interested?" he said hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably and looking away.

Ianto reached for Jack's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'd like that," he replied with certainty.

Jack looked back up at him, feeling relieved. "Tomorrow night then. Seven o'clock okay?"

"Yep," Ianto confirmed.

He leaned in and gave Jack a final lingering kiss. Then he stood up, gathering his damp clothes, and placing them into the carrier bag.

Jack moved to rise, but Ianto shook his head. "Stay there. I'll let myself out."

He reached the doorway and turned to smile back at Jack before he left the room.

A few moments later, Jack heard the front door close. He settled back onto the bed with a groan, wondering if his life could possibly get any more confusing and bizarre.

As he began to doze off, he considered what Ianto had just given him. No matter what happened, and how much longer he had left, he would have the memory of their afternoon together to hold onto. And that was something no-one could take away from him.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to everyone for both reading and reviewing. Hope you all enjoy the new chapter! The story is growing a bit as I continue to work on it - looks like it will end up being 30 chapters and around 70K words. Thanks as always to my fantastic beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Jack was enjoying a rather torrid dream about a certain young Welshman when he was abruptly woken by a series of soft beeps. The room was dark, and he fumbled to flick on the bedside lamp as he sat up and looked around in confusion. It took him a moment to realise that the sound had come from his mobile phone. He groaned and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Spotting the pile of discarded clothes on the floor, he grabbed his crumpled trousers and extracted the phone from one of the pockets.

Jack squinted down at the screen, the intense brightness hurting his eyes. An icon flashed innocuously at the top corner of the display indicating that he'd received a new e-mail. Tapping the screen to open his inbox, his stomach flipped over and his eyes grew wide as he stared disbelievingly at the display.

There was one new message. It was from John Smith, and it had arrived one minute ago at 9:07 PM.

He stumbled back onto the bed, and after taking a moment to recover, he opened the message with a trembling finger. There was no subject line and no text, just a solitary link to a video file. He recognised the IP address of the link as belonging to one of the Hub's servers. He tapped to download the file but then frowned when an error message appeared saying that the file couldn't be retrieved. He growled in frustration. The file was stored on a secure area of the server and couldn't be remotely accessed.

Rushing into the shower, he quickly washed, dried off, and hastily pulled on the clothes he'd left out earlier, adding a randomly selected jacket from his wardrobe as an afterthought. A few minutes later, he was in his car, and speeding through the brightly illuminated streets of the bay area. His thoughts were in turmoil. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the Hub's underground car park, but finally he was making his way into the dark lair. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he relied on the muted glow of the various indicators on the equipment to find his way.

He reached his office without incident. Flicking on the overhead light, he sat down at his desk and powered up his workstation. He waited impatiently for the system to boot up, desperately trying to quell his racing thoughts and heavy sense of foreboding. With fumbling fingers, he signed in and accessed his e-mail account.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he opened John's e-mail and clicked on the link. A video playback window opened, and Jack watched in shock as John's familiar features appeared on the screen. The wall behind John indicated that the message had been recorded in his office at the Hub, and Jack noted with shock that the timestamp in the bottom right corner of the recording was dated the night before he'd died.

Jack felt his heart pound in his chest as John looked solemnly into the camera. His features seemed haggard, and the haunted look in his eyes suggested that he was deeply troubled. He began to speak.

_Jack, if you're watching this… well, it probably means I'm dead. This message will be sent to you after seventy-two hours if I don't access the Hub's systems within that period of time. The file is stored in my private directory, and it can only be accessed within the Hub, and only by your security credentials. As soon as you've finished watching this, it's vital that you delete all trace of it from the system. No-one else can ever know about this._

John paused and looked into the camera earnestly.

_Before I continue… I want to suggest that you walk away. Don't mourn for me. Leave all of this behind. Leave Cardiff, find a slice of happiness somewhere else for the time you still have, and never look back. Every moment that you have left is precious. Try to make the most of it. You deserve some happiness, Jack. At least take some time to consider the possibility… if nothing else, think of it as a final request of an old friend._

_And I meant what I said before you left for your trip. None of this would have been possible without you. You're brilliant, Jack. You do know that don't you? And your friendship means the world to me. I could never have found a better or more loyal companion._

_Jack, this is your chance. Regardless of what you might think, you don't owe me or any of the others anything. You can stop this message right now, delete it, and walk away._

Jack paused the video and slumped back into his chair, feeling utterly bewildered. John wasn't making any sense, and Jack couldn't understand why John was so insistent that he should leave. John knew that he would never do that. He'd never turn his back on his friends and responsibilities. Like John, he'd devoted years of his life to making the project a success.

He sighed and then reached forward, tapping on the keyboard to resume the video. He couldn't stop watching. He had to see the rest of the message. The playback continued with the image of John, who had stopped talking and was looking into the camera sadly. Then he started speaking again.

_Well, I had to try, but I knew you'd keep watching. I know you, and I know how I'd feel if our roles were reversed. I wouldn't be able to walk away, so I don't doubt that you won't be able to either. For your sake though, Jack, I wish you would._

_But you must feel confused and have questions. I don't think you'll feel that you can achieve any measure of peace until you have the answers. Unfortunately, therein lies the conundrum._

John paused again and his expression became apologetic.

_I'm sure you now know that I've been using the simulation while you've been away. I know that you wanted to be the first to trial it… but I had to see it and experience it for myself. I'm sorry, Jack, but I had to know if it really worked. I'm sure you can understand that. I made a promise to you though, and I've broken it. I hope you can forgive me._

He looked away from the camera for a moment. Then a smile spread across his face, and Jack felt his heart wrench, but he smiled back as a glimmer of John's familiar exuberance seemed to emerge.

_The simulation is amazing. It works, Jack. It really works, and it's more fantastic than I even dared to imagine. It's like travelling back in time. It's a whole new world and the inhabitants are brilliant. They're every bit as real as you and me. We've done it, Jack._

_So whatever has happened, please don't mourn me for long. It's all right. It really is. Just remember that I died knowing my life's work was a success. I don't have any regrets. Well that's not entirely true, is it? We all do. But I don't have any professionally, at least. And in the end, this work was my life, and I can't imagine having done anything else._

John leaned forward and looked into the camera earnestly again.

_I know that you thought it was your duty… that you had the least to lose. But that's not true, Jack. You have just as much to lose as the rest of us. Maybe you have even more. So, remember what I said, and try to make the most of it._

John pulled back and the haunted look returned to his eyes. He sighed wearily and his expression twisted with a mixture of sadness and pain.

_There's an old proverb… ignorance is bliss. I never really believed that before. After all, we're scientists at heart. We strive to understand everything around us… but for the first time in my life, I think I believe that now. Perhaps we forget that knowledge often comes at a price, and sometimes that price is too high._

_Jack, I'm telling you this because I've discovered something… something incredible. It changes everything._

_But I want you to have the chance to walk away, so I can't tell you more here. I'm sorry. I could be making an unforgivable mistake by telling you any of this, but you deserve to have the choice. I owe you that. And I'm worried that if I remain silent, you'll eventually figure it out for yourself. You're too clever not to. So, perhaps it's better this way._

_I've left a message for you in the system. You should be able to find it… I doubt that you'll be able to resist going into the simulation, if you haven't already. But please consider what I've said carefully, Jack. It's not too late for you to leave all of this behind. If you don't, and you decide to go down this path, there's no going back._

_I'm so sorry, Jack. I wish there was some other way._

John sighed deeply again. He looked away for a moment, and when his eyes met the camera again, they were glistening with unshed tears. He blinked several times and then smiled warmly.

_I don't know what's beyond this life, but you never know… perhaps we'll meet again someday soon. In the meantime, whatever you decide to do, good luck. And don't forget what I said – try to enjoy the time you have left… Goodbye, my friend._

The message ended and Jack quickly closed the video window as he blinked back his tears. "Goodbye, John," he murmured brokenly.

Jack watched the video message twice more and then proceeded to delete it and the accompanying e-mail from the system, including the audit logs. Then he deleted all trace of his late night visit from the internal security systems, turned off his workstation, and hastily exited the Hub. He made his way back to his car and sat it in for several minutes with his mind reeling as he mentally replayed John's words.

John's dire warnings were the focus of his thoughts as he drove back home. He couldn't imagine what John had discovered that could be so profound and disturbing. The fact that he had made the recording and taken precautions to keep it concealed meant that he had obviously known that he was in danger. Jack's mind began to churn with possibilities. Perhaps John's death hadn't been so random after all, he considered, and maybe what he'd discovered had been reason enough for someone to decide to silence him. The obvious implication was that if Jack made the same discovery, he would also be in danger of meeting a gruesome end.

As far as he knew, everything had been fine until John had begun using the simulation. He couldn't understand how it was possible, but somehow, the simulation had to be the key.

A few minutes later, Jack was back at the apartment. Walking inside, he turned on the lights and headed for the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and a bottle of scotch and sank down onto the sofa, letting out a weary sigh.

He thought about calling Ianto. He would have liked his company, and he desperately needed someone intelligent and objective to talk to about this latest revelation. But the problem was that he hadn't told Ianto about John using the simulation yet. He also couldn't reveal the content of John's message. John had been adamant that Jack shouldn't share it with anyone. Whatever this knowledge was, it was dangerous, and he couldn't risk putting Ianto in danger too. Regardless of any feelings he might have for the Welshman, it was his responsibility to keep Ianto safe. He knew John would have wanted him to do that. And the best way to protect Ianto was to keep him in the dark, at least for the time being… at least until he had some answers.

He sighed again and proceeded to toss back several shots of scotch, savouring the familiar burn at the back of his throat. As the alcohol settled in his stomach, he started to relax, and he made a decision.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he called Owen. After perfunctorily asking how he and the others were coping, he told Owen to meet him at the Hub at ten o'clock the following morning. He let Owen grouse for a moment, then said goodnight and disconnected the call.

Jack had decided that it was time to experience the simulation for himself.


	11. Chapter 11

The previous chapter was a little shorter than usual, so I thought I'd post the next one early. This one is a bit shorter too, but the next will be more substantial. Anyway, hope you like it. Thanks as always to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Jack paced anxiously in his office the following morning. After a restless night plagued with confusion and a heavy sense of foreboding over John's cryptic message, he'd woken a little after six o'clock. Feeling nauseous and with his head pounding violently, he'd downed some painkillers and then taken a long shower, staying under the hot spray until he'd felt ready to face the new day.

He'd already drank four cups of coffee since crawling out of bed. In hindsight, he realised that consuming so much caffeine hadn't been one of his more brilliant ideas. His stomach churned unpleasantly, and while his headache had receded, he was feeling edgy and apprehensive.

Given the magnitude of what he was about to do, his feelings of uneasiness were entirely justified, he reasoned with himself. There was clearly no precedent for downloading one's consciousness into a computer system. The sheer insanity of it all wasn't lost on Jack. But it seemed like such a long time since anything in his life had been even remotely close to normal. He wondered how John had felt before the first time he'd plugged himself into the system. It was likely his friend had been almost frenetic with excitement, and probably entirely unmindful of the enormity of the risk he was about to take. While John had certainly never been a fool, his unreserved enthusiasm had sometimes gotten the better of him and had tended to overshadow his common sense.

John's words haunted him. For a brief, insane, selfish moment he considered taking John's advice – just throw some essentials in a bag, jump in his car and never look back, leaving all of the pain, turmoil, and weight of responsibility behind. The possibility wasn't entirely unappealing. As he indulged himself in the fantasy, he wondered about asking Ianto to go with him, and if he would agree. It was a ridiculous notion, but just in that brief moment, it was incredibly tempting.

His thoughts shifted further to the Welshman. He wondered what they were to each other now – friends with benefits… lovers… part-time shags? It was all different and strange, and he didn't have any basis for comparison. However, entangled amidst everything else he was feeling, there was a definite sense of anticipation for their evening together. It had been a long time since he'd felt excited about being with someone, but the timing couldn't have been worse, and the shadow of guilt lingered. Realistically, the most he could hope for with Ianto was a short-term and purely physical relationship – a warm and willing body to lose himself with. Given his situation, he couldn't offer anything more than that, no matter how much he might have wished otherwise.

The proximity alarm blared, pulling Jack abruptly from his thoughts. The deep groan of the cogwheel door reverberated through the silence of the Hub as it slowly rolled open. Jack glanced down at his watch. It was just after ten o'clock.

There was the echo of hurried footsteps as Jack stopped pacing and leaned his weight against the edge of his desk. He masked his features as best he could and looked expectantly towards the doorway. Owen appeared a moment later, looking reassuringly scruffy and ill-tempered. Jack almost managed to smile at the familiar sight of his cantankerous friend.

"What's going on, Jack?" Owen asked without preamble as he crossed the threshold and came to a stop in front of him.

Jack opened his mouth to reply but Owen stepped closer and looked at him intently. "Bloody hell, mate. You look like shit."

"Nice to see you too, Owen," Jack replied sardonically. "And thanks. That makes me feel so much better."

"Have you been eating?" Owen demanded, still staring at him.

"Yes, dad," Jack retorted. "Three square meals every day."

Owen didn't look impressed, but Jack knew that he was genuinely concerned. For all of Owen's cynicism and belligerent manner, he cared about all of them deeply. He'd just never admit it. "Wanker," Owen muttered with a scowl.

"I'm okay, Owen," Jack lied, becoming serious again and hoping that he sounded convincing. "I haven't been sleeping very well."

Owen nodded, the look on his face suggesting that he wasn't fairing much better. Jack doubted that any of them were.

"How's Toshiko?" Jack asked.

Owen sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "She's devastated, but she's trying to be strong. Probably as much for my sake as her own. And for the others. Tosh is one tough lady." His eyes softened, and a hint of a smile ghosted over his mouth. "It's going to take time. For all of us."

Jack nodded but couldn't help thinking that time was one particular luxury he didn't have. At least he could take some solace in knowing that his team looked after each other. They'd be all right. "I'm glad you've got each other, Owen," he said sincerely.

Owen looked at him curiously but didn't respond. The Londoner moved over to the expansive window and looked out across the Hub. "Why did you want me to come in?" he asked quietly a moment later, turning back around to look at Jack.

Jack sighed deeply but fixed his eyes on Owen's. "I'm going into the simulation. I need to see it for myself."

Owen tensed and a myriad of emotions played across his features, eventually settling somewhere between disbelief and outrage. "No bloody way," he argued, shaking his head. "It's too dangerous."

"John was fine," Jack reasoned calmly, knowing he was going to have a fight on his hands. He kept his voice even. "I will be too."

Owen's expression became hard as he met Jack's gaze. "You don't know that," he argued. "Maybe John was a fluke."

"Maybe," Jack conceded. He couldn't deny that a single test subject hardly qualified as sound empirical proof that the system was safe, and Owen knew the risks as well as any of them. "Look, I'm not asking for your permission, Owen. I'm doing this. Are you going to help me?"

Owen swore under his breath. "You're as bad as he was, you know that?"

Jack let out a mirthless chuckle. "I think that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Owen stepped closer and stabbed his index finger sharply against Jack's chest. He narrowed his eyes. "If something goes wrong," he growled. "I'm going to fucking kill you. We're not losing you too."

Jack only just managed to stop himself from flinching. He knew that he should tell Owen about his condition, especially now that John was gone, but it just wasn't the right time. He gave Owen a tight smile, then pushed away from the desk and moved towards the door.

"It's going to be fine," he reassured him. "Come on, let's do this."

Jack led the way down to the lab and moved over to the interface chair. He slipped off his jacket and threw it over the nearby desk and then toed off his shoes. Finally, he unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt, knowing that Owen would need to attach a sensor to his chest. He shivered slightly as the coldness of the flooring seeped up through his socks and into the soles of his feet.

Reaching out, Jack grasped Owen's arm and looked at him intently. "Owen, I need you to do something for me. If anything does go wrong, I need you to go and see Ianto. Tell him about this, and about what John was doing. And tell him…"

Jack paused, closing his eyes briefly as he felt a surprisingly sharp stab of regret at the thought of not seeing the Welshman again. "Tell him I said I was sorry."

Owen raised an eyebrow and looked confused. "What's he got to do with this?"

"Nothing at all," Jack replied. "It's just that… me and him…" He sighed and shook his head, not knowing how to finish that sentence, and belatedly realising that he'd already said too much. "It's complicated."

Owen frowned and looked like he was about to say something, but Jack cut him off, not wanting to hear what the other man was thinking. "Please, Owen," he pleaded.

Owen eventually nodded, and Jack gave him what he hoped was a valiant smile. Taking a deep breath, he settled himself down into the wide, inclined chair. While it was fairly utilitarian in appearance, wrapped in some sort of imitation leather material and ominously black in colour, it was surprisingly comfortable.

He tried to relax as Owen carefully wrapped restraining bands around first his wrists and then his ankles. Pushing back the edge of Jack's shirt, Owen affixed a heart rate sensor to his chest. He then proceeded to tighten the cortical interface assembly around Jack's skull so that it held his head firmly in place. Jack could feel the cold, metallic tips of the probes pushing against the base of his neck and his temples. He took several slow, deep breaths and pushed down on his rising fear as Owen fussed over the equipment for a minute or two longer, apparently checking that everything was ready. Jack reminded himself repeatedly that whatever happened, he had nothing to lose. He just wasn't quite sure if that was actually true any longer.

Owen was still standing by the side of the chair. He looked down on him, his face etched with concern. "Jack, are you sure about this?"

Jack couldn't move, but he gave Owen a tight, determined smile as he looked up into his friend's worried eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure," he replied.

"I'm setting the timer for two hours," Owen said as he busied himself at the table beside the chair, setting up an emergency medical kit and a portable defibrillator.

He moved over to his desk and sat down in front of the workstation. "If anything goes wrong, I'm pulling you out of there straight away."

"Okay. Two hours," Jack confirmed.

It wasn't long, but he didn't want to push his luck with Owen. And if it worked, he could always go back in again.

"Take a deep breath and relax," Owen advised. "If John's experience is anything to go by, this is going to hurt like hell. Ready?"

Jack drew in another long, deep breath and slowly let it out as he concentrated on trying to release the tension from his muscles. "Yeah. Do it."

Owen tapped a series of keys to initiate the transfer sequence. A warning tone began to sound, beeping portentously in a loud, shrill tone. Jack closed his eyes, and he gripped the edges of the armrests tightly, his knuckles turning white. A high-pitched electrical buzz filled his ears and there was a tingling sensation at the points where the cortical interface made contact against his skin.

Suddenly, hot, searing pain tore through his skull. His body jerked violently in response, his torso and hips arching upwards before settling down against the chair again. There was agonising pressure as his consciousness seemed to fold in on itself, tearing away from his body. Just when he thought he couldn't take the pain any longer, his eyes flew open and a tortured scream caught in his throat as his breathing became rapid and shallow. His vision blurred as the room twisted violently, growing distant as if he was staring down a very long, narrow tunnel. Bright, blinding white light rushed towards him with impossible speed, engulfing and consuming him. The intense pain finally receded, and he slumped lifelessly into the chair as the world around him went dark.

Owen looked panicked as he frantically checked Jack's vital signs. Several moments later, he let out a relieved sigh and collapsed into his chair as he stared at the screen. A timer had begun to count down in large red digits, and a simple message blinked below it:

_Download complete._


	12. Chapter 12

Hope this longer chapter makes up for the last couple. Enjoy! Please review if you can, and I greatly appreciate any feedback. Thanks as always to my very generous and patient beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

Jack's eyes shot open, and the world seemed to explode into existence around him. His consciousness wavered, expanding outwards and settling back into place within his skull. A tremor rippled through his body, and he looked around wildly as he took in the sight of the unfamiliar surroundings.

He was sitting at a wooden desk in a large office space. It was dimly lit, with dark timber panelled walls and tall narrow windows along one side. Scanning his eyes around the room, he noticed that his desk was one of about a dozen filling the space; all of them occupied by men of varying ages, their heads down and focused on their work. At the far end of the room, the noisy clatter of a typewriter suddenly drew his attention. A young red-headed woman was typing at her desk, her features slightly pinched in concentration. She glanced up, and meeting his eyes, she gave him a shy smile before looking down again. Next to her, a closed door lead into what appeared to be another office, presumably belonging to the manager.

He stared down at his desk. A large ledger was open in front of him, the pages filled with neat columns of figures in handwriting that was strongly reminiscent of his own. He trailed his fingers over the paper. Various other papers, mostly bundles of invoices and receipts, were scattered around him. A bankers style lamp with a heavy brass base and dark green shade sat on the corner of the desk, the same as all the other desks in the room, and cast a warm glow over the work area.

He choked down a hysterical laugh as he continued to stare around in disbelief at the foreign surroundings. Raising his hand up in front of his face, he wriggled his fingers, gazing upon an appendage that was almost identical to his own. The sensation of inhabiting another body that was so remarkably similar, and yet subtly different to his, was intensely disconcerting. His actual body was strapped to a chair, deep underground in rainy Cardiff, inert and unconscious, while his mind had been transported into this virtualised replica of 1940's London. Every sensation he was experiencing – every sight, every sound, every scent and touch to his skin, even the rhythmic movement of his lungs as they drew in oxygen that didn't actually exist – they were all the product of streams of binary data hurtling around a vast computer network. His entire consciousness, his very soul, was currently a part of that network, torn from his body and transformed into a digital representation of almost incomprehensible complexity.

Jack pressed his eyes closed as a surge of light-headedness washed over him, the sheer magnitude of the experience temporarily overwhelming him. It had been one thing to understand what they were doing at a conceptual level, but to experience it first-hand was beyond anything he could have imagined. He'd never expected it to be so undeniably real and authentic. As much as he'd believed in John, and in his unshakable vision for a realistic simulated world, Jack supposed that he'd always had some doubts about the level of realism they'd actually be able to achieve. Now that Jack was experiencing it for himself, he just wished that he'd had one last chance to tell John how deeply he'd admired him, and how proud he was to have been his friend and colleague.

"James?" a voice broke into his thoughts, and Jack opened his eyes to find a thin, grey-haired man staring down at him curiously. The man gestured towards the books on Jack's desk. "We need those ledgers finished by lunchtime."

It took Jack a moment to realise that the man was talking to him. He had to remind himself that his doppelganger in this world wasn't known as Jack Harkness, but as James Ellis. And James was an accountant. Jack was sure that John must have been highly amused about that particular irony.

"Oh, sorry," Jack muttered, looking down blankly at the books. "Yes… yes, of course, sir."

It was strange to hear his words uttered in an English accent instead of his usual distinctive American inflection. That would definitely take some getting used to, he thought distractedly. He looked up and felt a fresh wave of disorientation pass over him.

He got shakily to his feet. "Er, excuse me, please," he said and hurried towards a door that he hoped was the exit.

Finding himself in a wide, tiled corridor, he spotted a bathroom door at the far end. Hastily making his way down the corridor and through the door, he ended up in a spacious black and white tiled bathroom. He moved to the nearest basin, turned on the tap, and splashed some water on his face. The sensation of the cold water trickling over his fingers caused a shiver to ripple through his body. He was overawed by how completely indistinguishable this simulated world was from reality. Resting his hands heavily on the edges of the basin, he shivered again, and took several deep breaths to steady himself.

Jack looked up and let out a gasp of surprise as he caught his reflection in the mirror. His face was the same, although his skin was paler, with an almost sallow tinge. His eyes were the same piercing deep shade of blue. However, his hair was severely slicked back, making his face look more rounded, and it was adorned with long, thick sideburns and a small, neatly groomed moustache. Looking down at his period attire, he grimaced at the dark grey, high-waisted, and rather unflattering trousers, with lighter grey suspenders accompanying a white shirt and a sombre grey patterned tie. He thought he looked somewhat reminiscent of an undertaker.

The bathroom door opened, and Jack watched in the mirror as the grey-haired man entered.

"James? Are you all right?" he asked quietly as he stood by the door, looking at Jack with a worried expression. "Why don't you take an early lunch? Get some fresh air. You're not looking well."

Jack nodded and smiled at the man who then quickly exited the room. Turning back to his reflection, he couldn't help but grin. "Well, James, I think you look pretty damn good. Although if I were you, I'd lose the moustache."

He returned to the office and spotted a row of pegs along the wall beside the doorway. He grabbed what he hoped was his jacket and an unattractive bowler hat that was hanging with it, and then quickly exited the room again.

A couple of minutes later, Jack had made his way to the ground floor of the building and out through the heavy front doors. He stood frozen, looking in amazement at the bustling streetscape before him. Glancing up at a nearby street sign, he noted that he was standing in Oxford Street. He continued to gape at his surroundings with disbelief as he reminded himself that he was effectively standing in London, circa 1945. He found himself imagining how completely enthralled John would have been here. His friend had always been an enthusiastic history buff, and it had been at his insistence that their first simulated world was a historical recreation.

He looked down at the antique watch on his wrist, and remembering that he had a limited amount of time, he set off down the street in search of a taxi. He knew where he needed to go first.

The journey was uneventful, but Jack spent the entire time staring out of the window, captivated by everything around him, and trying to take in as much of the simulated world as he could. He noted the architecture, the people and clothing, the cars, and anything else he spotted along the way. His one regret was that John wasn't with him. He would have loved to share the experience with his friend. But even if John had still been alive, it wouldn't have been possible. The system was only powerful enough to allow one user to interact at a time. John's eventual goal had been to allow for multiple users to exist concurrently within the simulation, but based on his predictions, it was at least several years away from being achievable.

Jack paid and thanked the driver, and climbed out of the taxi. He dodged around a harried looking woman with a bunch of unruly children in tow, and feeling both excited and apprehensive, he approached the entrance of the modest brick building. Taking a deep breath, he took off his hat, and pushed the door open. A bell above the door jingled loudly to announce his arrival, and he tentatively stepped over the threshold.

The vast, sprawling interior of the bookshop belied the compact exterior of the building. Jack briefly wondered if a glitch in the system was causing the space to be bigger on the inside. It was entirely possible, and the system was far from perfect, but it was equally as likely that the illusion of a larger interior was simply a trick of the eye.

As Jack gazed around at the enormous array of books lining the walls and filling the space, he paused to wonder how many of the books were genuine and how many were simply props. The system had to cut corners, but the units would never see the imperfections. They were programmed with safeguards to ignore any anomalies that would suggest their world wasn't authentic. It was a concern the team had discussed at length. If any of the units discovered their world wasn't real, it could lead to widespread panic and chaos. And if that happened, the simulation would have to be wiped clean and repopulated.

Jack slowly moved through the interior of the shop. He was startled when a heartbreakingly familiar face popped up from beneath a huge stack of books. Suddenly, Jack found himself staring into the face of John Smith. He was sure that his heart stopped in that moment as he stared open-mouthed at the other man.

John's clothes were different, and his hair was neatly styled, so unlike the manic style that Jack had been used to. It took all of Jack's self-restraint not to rush forward and pull the man into a desperate, bone-crushing embrace. Except that it wasn't John, he had to remind himself. It was merely a program unit bearing John's likeness.

The man stood up and smiled broadly at him. "Hello! Looking for anything in particular?"

"Um, thanks, but no, not really," Jack replied hesitantly, feeling completely at a loss. He allowed his gaze to wander as he desperately searched for something to say. "Do you own this place?" he finally asked conversationally.

"Yes. Yes, I do." The man walked around from the other side of the desk and looked at Jack curiously. "I've always loved books," he continued. "I'm somewhat of a history enthusiast. But I love fiction too. A well-written story can take you anywhere in the world, beyond it even, and to any point in time… anywhere in time and space, really."

Jack smiled at the man's infectious enthusiasm that was so much like John's. "That's very true," Jack agreed.

"Have you been here before?" the man asked. He tilted his head and stepped forward as he looked at Jack intently. "You look familiar."

Jack held out his hand. "My name's Jack Harkness." They shook hands firmly. "But no, I don't think I've been here before. I'm just… well, I'm just kind of passing through."

The man gave a little shrug and then nodded. "I'm Charles Wilson. Hmm… you must have one of those familiar looking faces."

"That must be it," Jack quickly agreed, plastering on a smile.

He turned away and pretended to examine the nearest bookshelf as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. It was harder than he'd expected to see this facsimile of John, alive and well. The likeness was too flawless, and Jack found it profoundly unnerving.

After gazing distractedly at several random books, he made a show of looking at his watch. "I'm sorry, but I have an appointment to get to. I'll come back again when I have more time."

The man smiled at him warmly. "By all means, please do. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Harkness."

Jack managed a smile in return as he moved towards the door and tugged on his hat. "Please, it's Jack. A pleasure to meet you too."

Jack looked back at the other man once more and then slipped out through the door, yanking it firmly closed behind him. He took several deep breaths as he hurried away from the bookshop. Turning the corner, he slumped against the wall as he fought to push down the fresh surge of grief that was threatening to break to the surface. Suddenly, he didn't want to be in this world any longer. His initial elation and sense of wonderment was rapidly turning into something far more unpleasant and unsettling.

Eventually Jack managed to compose himself again. He made his way along the street to look for another taxi, mindful that his time was running out.

Twenty minutes later, Jack alighted from his taxi as it pulled to a stop at 150 Piccadilly. He stood on the pavement and stared up in amazement at the imposing grandeur of The Ritz. John had been particularly excited about recreating the famous hotel in their virtual world, and it was the one location he could have anticipated that Jack would visit. Jack was certain that John's message had to somewhere inside the hotel.

Forcing aside his trepidation, Jack resolutely walked through the entrance and into the opulent, marble-floored foyer. He attempted to maintain an air of confidence as he scanned the large space and looked for familiar faces. The hotel was busy with people coming and going, and staff diligently attending to their needs, but he didn't recognise any of them. He took a moment to silently curse John for not giving him more specific information. Although he could understand that John had wanted to be cautious, he'd left Jack searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. But as he continued to glance around, he spotted a sign at the far end of the room, next to a set of wide double doors, and he was suddenly struck by inspiration.

The Ritz ballroom was nothing short of breathtaking. Jack barely managed to stifle a gasp as he stood at the entrance to the huge, majestic space. An intricately decorated ceiling soared far above him, dominated by an enormous crystal chandelier. A stage and bandstand stretched across the far end of the room, with a long bar on the left. Numerous tables were spread around the perimeter, each one covered in a crisp white tablecloth, while the centre of the room was dedicated to a large, polished dance floor. As Jack stood transfixed, he instinctively knew that he was in the right place. He was sure that John would have loved this, and he had no doubt that his friend would have spent a lot of his time here during his after-hours sessions in the simulation.

A group of girls were practising an energetic dance routine at the far end of the floor while being instructed by a boisterous, stout, dark haired man. Jack's eyes settled on an attractive blonde woman, attired in a neat black and white maid's uniform. She was changing tablecloths with practiced precision on a group of tables just off to his right. He immediately recognised her as Rose Tyler, a former girlfriend of John's, and the woman who had left his friend broken-hearted.

Jack cautiously approached the young woman as he tried to decide what to say. He didn't even know her name in this world. "Ah, excuse me?"

The woman looked up with wide brown eyes. "Yes, sir?" she asked politely, but a frown creased her forehead. "You shouldn't be here, sir. The ballroom isn't open again until tonight."

"I'm sorry. I'll only be a minute," Jack replied. "I'm Jack… Jack Harkness. I'm a friend of John Smith. I just wondered if you know him?"

She looked at him blankly. "Um, you might know him as Charles Wilson?" Jack tried. "Tall and thin, dark brown hair, tends to grin a lot."

A look of recognition spread over her features, and Jack thought he detected a hint of a blush creeping over her pale cheeks. "Mr. Wilson? Yes, he's a lovely gentleman. He's been coming here almost every night for the last couple of weeks." She paused and looked at Jack worriedly. "Is he all right? He hasn't been here the last few days."

"He's fine," Jack assured her. "He's… uh, he's just away on a business trip at the moment." He smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"I'm Emma Johnson," she replied shyly as she looked back up at Jack.

"A pleasure, Miss Johnson." Jack gave her what he hoped was his most charming smile. "Did Charles mention my name? Did he give you a message to pass on to me?"

Emma looked thoughtful but then quickly shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, sir." She looked over his shoulder and then reached back towards the table she was working on. "I really have to get back to work."

"Is there anyone else I can ask?" Jack pressed, starting to feel desperate. "It's very important."

"You could try Eugene over at the bar," she suggested, glancing over towards the area on the other side of the room. "He knows all the regulars. I've seen Mr. Wilson talking to him."

"Okay, thanks," Jack replied and gave her another smile. "I'll let you get back to work."

Leaving Emma to get on with her tables, Jack walked across the room and over to the bar. A man of average height with neatly combed brown hair had his back to him as he stacked a tray of clean glasses. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Eugene," Jack said to announce his presence.

The man turned around, and Jack found himself staring into the face of Owen Harper. "I'm Eugene," the man said and looked at Jack curiously. "Are you all right?"

Jack gaped in stunned silence for a second or so, but managed to quickly recover. "Sorry. Yes… yes, I'm fine. Emma sent me over here to see you."

Eugene frowned as he put down the glass he was holding. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you know a gentleman by the name of Charles Wilson?" Jack asked him, proceeding to add the description he'd given to Emma moments ago.

"Sure. He's been a regular lately. Likes banana daiquiri's." His eyes darted over to where Emma was still working. "Amongst other things."

Jack decided not to respond to the suggestive comment. Whatever John had been up in the simulation, beyond drinking and dancing, he wasn't sure that he wanted to know. "Do you remember the last time he was here?"

Eugene narrowed his eyes and looked at Jack suspiciously. "What's this about?"

"My name is Jack Harkness. He's a very good friend of mine," Jack said, hoping his sincerity would help to alleviate the other man's apparent mistrust. "I haven't seen him for a few days… I just want to make sure he's okay."

Eugene continued to look doubtful. "It's been a few days," he replied a moment later with a shrug. "I think it was Sunday night when I last saw him."

"And you spoke to him that night?" Jack asked.

Eugene nodded. "Yes. He always likes to sit at the bar for a while and chat. Nice enough fellow. He's always interested in everything around him."

Jack almost smiled as he imagined John sitting at the bar and chatting away animatedly while he took in all the sights and sounds of the room. "Did he mention my name? Did he leave anything for me? A note or a message?"

"A message?" Eugene repeated with a frown, scratching distractedly at the back of his neck. "No, sorry. Nothing like that. He just talked for a while, and then he left."

Jack felt his heart sink. He'd been sure that this man, Owen's double, would be the person with whom John had left the message. "Did you notice if he was talking to anyone else?" he asked, feeling desperate.

Eugene was obviously getting impatient. "I couldn't say," he replied tersely. "I'm a busy man. We get a lot of people through here."

Jack nodded resignedly. "Okay. Well, thanks anyway."

He turned and looked back out across the room, and wondered what to do next. Suddenly, his vision began to waver, and an intense wave of vertigo slammed into him. Blinding pain rippled through his skull, and he crumbled to the floor as his body began to convulse violently.

A started exclamation sounded distantly in his ears, and then Eugene's face was peering down at him with a mixture of astonishment and panic.

Jack managed to bring his trembling arm up and into his blurred field of vision. He looked at his watch and realised that his time was up. He screamed out as the pain in his skull intensified. Darkness consumed him and his body went still.


	13. Chapter 13

Slightly early post this week. I'm hoping to post another new chapter on the weekend. Please feel free to encourage me to do so :-). I really appreciate any feedback. Thanks as always to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

Jack regained consciousness with a gasp. His eyes shoot open as he breathed rapidly, desperately pulling air into his lungs. He blinked and looked around wildly, feeling disoriented and momentarily confused about where he was. The last thing he remembered was being in the Ritz ballroom, and then he'd collapsed, blacking out when an intense surge of pain had overwhelmed him.

The familiar sight of the Hub's surroundings came into focus before his eyes, and a greater sense of awareness settled over his mind. He pulled ineffectually against his restraints, and a concerned face swam across his field of vision. Owen was staring down at him. Jack slumped back into the chair, realising with relief that he was back in the real world.

"Jack, are you all right?" Owen asked quickly, his tone laced with panic.

Jack sucked in a deep breath, feeling his heart pounding violently. He pressed his eyes closed as the pain in his skull slowly began to recede. "Yeah, I think so," he replied shakily as he tentatively opened his eyes. He pulled at the restraints again. "Get these off me, Owen."

"Right. Yeah, sorry."

Owen carefully removed the cortical interface unit from around Jack's head, then detached the heart rate sensor, and finally unfastened the restraints. Pulling himself up, Jack swung his legs over the edge of the chair, relieved to feel the solid surface of the floor beneath his sock-clad feet. Still breathing heavily, he rested his forearms on his thighs and lowered his head between them.

"Bloody hell," Owen muttered as he rested against the edge of the nearby desk and continued to look at Jack worriedly. "You scared the shit out of me."

"What happened?" Jack asked, glancing up at Owen before settling his eyes on the floor again.

"The cortical link started to fluctuate. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to get you back." He gave Jack a wary look. "Thought we might have been stuck with the unit's consciousness in your body, and your consciousness trapped in the system."

Jack looked up at Owen and frowned in confusion. "But we've got fail safes to prevent that from happening."

Owen nodded. "Yeah, but this is hardly an exact science, Jack. It's all unchartered territory. We can't be certain about anything. And if the link shuts down, the fail safes aren't going to help."

"Is it even possible that a unit's consciousness could be transferred? Permanently?" Jack asked curiously as he rubbed at the back of his skull where a dull ache had taken hold.

Owen shrugged. "Maybe. The brain might be able to adapt enough for the consciousness to take up permanent residence. It's also just as likely that the person could go insane, or end up comatose."

Jack nodded, cringing at the thought of those unpleasant scenarios. But then they'd all known the enormity of the risks involved, he reminded himself.

"Every person is going to react differently to being plugged into the system," Owen continued. "Two hours was obviously too long for you for a first trip."

"Yeah," Jack agreed, feeling a shiver of dread run through him.

As much as he'd been willing to sacrifice himself for the advancement of their research, the idea of being trapped inside the simulation – or worse – was a terrifying prospect. The simulation was incredible; its realism more convincing than he'd expected, but he couldn't imagine a real person existing within it permanently. The thought of being imprisoned there, and knowing that nothing was real… that would surely drive even the most stable person to the brink of insanity.

He was relieved that he hadn't pressed Owen to give him more time on the clock. He might not have survived inside the simulation for any longer. Standing up, he buttoned his shirt and then reached for his jacket.

"How long was John's first trip?" he asked as he shrugged on the jacket.

"Two hours," Owen confirmed. "But I didn't have any problems getting him back. That's why I thought it would be safe for you too." Owen's expression turned apologetic. "Sorry. I guess he was just lucky."

"It's not your fault, Owen," Jack said firmly. "Anyway, look, I'm fine." He spread his arms out and forced a reassuring smile onto his face to prove his point.

Owen's eyes narrowed, and he didn't look convinced. "This time," he muttered.

Jack sat back down on the edge of the chair and began to pull on his shoes. He decided that it probably wasn't a good idea to tell Owen that he'd be going back again. Not yet, at least. "What was the longest trip he made?"

Owen looked thoughtful. "About four hours."

Jack nodded. He still couldn't help but feel a little cheated. He wished he'd been around to at least share in John's excitement afterwards. He should have been at John's side the first time he went in. But then if he had been there, he wouldn't have let John go in the first place, and that would have been a terrible mistake.

Owen pulled over his chair and slumped down onto it. "What was it like?"

"It's fantastic," Jack replied, smiling as his thoughts traced back over the experience. "It's like going back in time. It's so…" He struggled to find a suitable word but just shrugged. "Real," he settled on sheepishly. "It's as real as you can imagine."

"And the units?" Owen asked as he met Jack's eyes. "Are they as realistic as John said?"

"Yeah," Jack replied, not managing to keep the amazement from his voice. "They're as real as you and me."

"I saw that you met my bartender."

Jack chuckled. "Gave me a hell of a fright at first. He looks just like you." He gave Owen a teasing grin. "Better haircut and disposition though," he quipped.

Owen glared at him darkly. "Tosser," he muttered. "You saw John too. Well not John, but…"

Jack nodded and blew out a breath as he forced his emotions aside. He wondered when hearing John's name spoken aloud would stop being quite so painful. "It was tough seeing him again. He was so much like our John." He paused and shook his head. "I wasn't expecting that."

Owen looked at him with uncharacteristic compassion radiating from his eyes. Jack gave him a sad half-smile. "I wish I could see it," Owen said wistfully a moment later.

Jack shook his head. "No way. Toshiko would kill me if she knew you'd tried it."

"Yeah, well… she'll kill me when she finds out that I let you go in there," Owen retorted, looking at him unrepentantly. "She can be bloody scary when she wants to be."

Jack couldn't help but laugh at the thought of a domesticated Owen. Jack had never had any doubt about who wore the proverbial trousers in that particular relationship. "Our little secret then," he said with a conspiratorial wink.

"Yeah." Owen's lips turned upwards briefly. "Thanks. Probably for the best for now."

Jack stood up and stretched out his legs. "None of the others know yet?"

"No," Owen confirmed. "But they're going to need to be told sooner or later."

Jack moved over to glass wall and looked out at the open area of the Hub. The unaccustomed quietness of the space still unnerved him. "Yeah, they do. But not yet. We should wait until after the funeral. They're going to have questions and…" He broke off awkwardly, not wanting to admit that he didn't feel capable of handling that at the moment. He turned back to look at Owen. "Let's just wait for a few days."

"Yeah, all right," Owen agreed. "You need to get some rest, mate," he added, looking at Jack shrewdly. "You look shattered. The transfer process puts a lot of stress on the body." He fixed Jack with a stern gaze and pointed a finger at him. "Doctor's orders."

Jack raised his hands in surrender. "No arguments from me. I'm heading back home now anyway."

"Want me to drop you off?" Owen asked as he stood up and powered down his workstation.

"No, that's fine. The fresh air will do me good." Jack gave the doctor an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Owen."

With a final nod, Jack exited the Hub and made his way on foot back to his apartment. His thoughts were consumed by his trip into the simulation and his failure to locate the mysterious message. He knew that he'd have to go back in and continue searching, but the idea filled him with an irrational sense of dread. Experiencing the simulation had imbrued him with a deep sense of unease. It had almost been too real.

By the time Jack was inside his apartment and shrugging off his jacket, a heavy fatigue had settled over him, and his thoughts were becoming muddled. He quickly made himself a cup of tea and slumped down onto the sofa with a weary sigh. Owen had been right, and the trip had taken a lot out of him. After a few sips of tea, he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He stretched out along the length of the sofa, and burying his head into a cushion, he was soon fast asleep.

It was several hours later when Jack woke with a start. After a visit to the toilet and splashing some water on his face to help shake off the grogginess from his nap, he made himself some coffee and returned to the sofa. Picking up his phone, he looked at it hesitantly and sighed. He'd been putting off calling the others to check in on them. He felt guilty about neglecting them over the last few days, but he knew they had each other to rely on. It was for the best, he reasoned, that they got used to him not being around.

Forcing back his reluctance, he spent the best part of an hour calling his colleagues, letting them know about John's funeral arrangements, and checking on how they were coping. The conversations were awkward and stilted, but he reiterated that he was there if they needed anything. It was the only thing he could think to say.

He left Toshiko until last. He'd only spoken with her for a minute or so when she suggested that he come over to her flat for coffee and a chat. His initial instinct had been to politely decline, but Tosh had sounded so pleased to hear from him, and obviously concerned about his welfare that he hadn't been able to refuse. Besides, he always liked spending time with the kind-hearted Japanese woman, and despite their very different personalities, they'd always got along well. Their keen intellects gave them a common ground.

Jack suspected that Tosh had once had a bit of a crush on him, but he'd always thought of her more as a younger sister. Anyway, he was certain that Toshiko's heart had always been with Owen. He smiled as he remembered when Tosh had finally taken the initiative and, with Jack's gentle encouragement, asked an oblivious Owen out on their first date. She'd looked so happy when Owen had smiled at her with uncharacteristic bashfulness and said yes.

It was twenty minutes later when Jack found himself being pulled into a hug as he crossed the threshold of Toshiko's flat. Tosh smiled at him warmly as she ushered him inside and towards her sofa. "It's so good to see you, Jack."

Jack smiled in return as he sat down. "You too, Tosh."

Glancing around the spacious living room, Jack admired the tasteful furniture and understated Japanese influence in the décor, as he'd done several times before. It was only a moment or two before Tosh settled an elegantly laid out tray on the coffee table in front of him. Jack watched affectionately as she filled a shallow china cup for him, adding just the right amount of milk and sugar. For all the time that Jack had known her, Tosh had always been the perfect hostess.

"Thanks," he said as he gratefully accepted the delicate cup and saucer she passed him. "Have you seen Owen today?" he asked conversationally and took a sip of coffee as he watched Tosh deftly prepare her own cup.

Tosh blushed as she met Jack's eyes and pushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "Actually, he's been staying here with me since… well since we got the news about John. He's been driving me a bit mad to be honest. But it's nice having him around, and I know he's worried about me."

Jack gave her an encouraging smile. "It's good that you've got each other."

"He's just gone out for a drink with Tommy and Alex," Tosh explained as she settled back against the cushions and sipped her drink. "He was going to call you but I told him you were on your way over here for coffee. It was just a spur of the moment thing, or I would have suggested you meet up with them instead of coming here. Sorry."

"It's fine. I'm glad I came over," Jack told her, pleased to hear that the others were spending time together, but knowing that the last place he wanted to be at the moment was in a noisy, crowded pub.

Tosh put her cup down and looked at Jack intently "I've been worried about you, Jack. I don't like you being on your own, especially not at a time like this."

"I'm okay," Jack said reassuringly. "I… um, I haven't exactly been alone."

Tosh expression turned curious. "I didn't realise you've been seeing someone. That's wonderful. Is she nice?"

"No, it's not like that," Jack said quickly, not wanting her to misunderstand. "I've been spending some time with John's nephew… Ianto."

Tosh's eyes widened slightly. "That's good. I'm glad you've had some company." She paused and frowned. "I still can't believe none of us knew he existed," she said thoughtfully, and adjusted her position so that she was looking directly at Jack. "What's he like?"

Jack shrugged. "He's a nice guy. Good looking. Smart. Very Welsh. He doesn't really have anyone here… John was the only family he had left."

"It must be horrible for him," Tosh said sadly. "Coming back home to spend time with his uncle, and losing him straight away. How's he coping?"

"He's seems okay," Jack replied. "Obviously they weren't very close."

Tosh nodded, and she looked at him affectionately. "It's nice that you've been looking out for him."

Jack couldn't quite hold back a wry chuckle. "It's been more the other way around. It's… we're… um… it's kind of complicated." He glanced at her worriedly, wondering what she'd think if she knew the truth about his involvement with the Welshman. He sighed and took a mouthful of coffee. If the thing with Ianto continued, they'd all find out sooner or later. "We're having dinner tonight. A sort of 'date' kind of dinner… I think."

Tosh's eyebrows shot up. "Wow! Really?" she exclaimed and then almost immediately looked contrite. "I'm sorry. It's just that I didn't know you're…"

"I'm not," Jack said quickly, cutting her off. "At least, if I am, I wasn't until a couple of days ago. I think maybe it's just… it might just be him. It's weird." He sighed and shook his head. "And the timing couldn't be worse."

Tosh moved closer and settled her much smaller hand over his. "You know that it doesn't matter, right? At least not to me. The others too, I'm sure." She patted his hand reassuringly. "Jack, if the right person comes along and you like them… if they make you happy… well, nothing else should matter."

"I suppose," Jack conceded, not quite meeting her eyes.

Tosh sighed wistfully. "John wouldn't have wanted us to put our lives on hold. Not even for a day. He'd want us to remember him, and of course we will, but he'd want us to be happy. That's how we honour his life. Well, that's what I've been trying to tell myself. He'd want all of us to be happy." She paused and then their eyes met. "Especially you, Jack."

Jack nodded, knowing Tosh was right, but not trusting himself to speak as John's words with the same sentiments reverberated in his thoughts.

"Losing John, it's a terribly reminder that we've got to make the most of the time we have." Tosh continued, a sad smile ghosting over her features. "It's good that you've found someone. At least something positive can come out of all of this."

"I've only known him for three days," Jack began uncertainly. "But… I can't explain it. I feel like I've known him for much longer. There's something familiar about him… like I really know him… even though he's almost a complete stranger." He shook his head in confusion. "It sounds insane."

"Maybe it's fate?" Tosh suggested hesitantly.

"Do you believe in that?" Jack asked incredulously.

"I don't know," Tosh replied thoughtfully. "I know that I shouldn't. We're scientists after all. That tends to make us a bit cynical… only trusting what we can observe, rationalise, and quantify. But some things can't be rationalised. Perhaps they shouldn't be." She paused and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "I like to believe that there are some things left in the world that can't be explained. That despite everything we've discovered, all the knowledge we've acquired, there's still a place for some wonder in our lives. That just occasionally, inexplicable but amazing things can happen."

"Perhaps you're right," Jack agreed dubiously.

He was moved by his friend's optimism, despite her grief. But he also knew that things weren't that simple – at least not for him. Not any more.

"Oh, I definitely am," Tosh agreed with an impish smile. "Try not to over-analyse it, Jack. Just be grateful for what you've found."

She reached forward and picked up his cup from the table. She smiled at him fondly. "How about another cup of coffee?"

Jack nodded and smiled.

They reminisced about John until they'd both finished their second cup of coffee. Standing up, Jack wrapped Tosh in a firm hug and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Thanks, Tosh," he murmured.

After exchanging farewells, Jack headed back to his apartment, and pondered what the evening ahead with Ianto had in store for him.


	14. Chapter 14

Here's the next chapter as promised for the weekend. Thanks to everyone for reading, and especially to those who have so kindly reviewed. I really appreciate the encouragement and feedback. Thanks as always to my talented and patient beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

Jack had just finished changing his clothes and getting ready when the intercom buzzed at precisely seven o'clock. He'd fussed at length over his choice of attire for the evening, finally settling on black jeans and a deep blue, long-sleeved dress shirt, both of which he thought nicely accentuated his height and build. Glancing at himself once more in the bathroom mirror, and with one final tug at a wayward spike of uncooperative hair, he decided that he was as ready as he'd ever be.

A couple of minutes later, he opened his front door and watched as Ianto walked down the corridor towards him with a brown carrier bag clutched in one hand.

"Hey there," Jack said as Ianto reached his doorway.

He smiled at the Welshman but then felt a sharp twinge of guilt. It seemed wrong to be taking this moment of pleasure amidst the turmoil of everything else that was going on in his life. But despite his conflicted feelings, an undeniable rush of warmth spread through him from seeing the younger man again. "Come in," he added and moved aside to give Ianto access.

"Evening, Jack," Ianto greeted in return as he stepped gracefully across the threshold.

Jack closed the door and watched as Ianto settled the bag down on the floor. He removed his shoes and shrugged off his fitted black leather jacket, hanging it up neatly. Jack took a moment to gaze appreciatively over the younger man's appearance. A dark burgundy coloured shirt sat comfortably over Ianto's broad shoulders, framing the lean lines of his well-proportioned physique to perfection. The top two buttons were open, revealing a teasing glimpse of pale skin. The shirt was complimented by navy blue jeans, which hugged Ianto's hips perfectly, and the same studded leather belt from the day before.

With an almost shy smile, Ianto leaned in close to Jack and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Jack was momentarily taken aback by the intimacy of the gesture, unsure of the protocol in this rather unusual situation – unusual for him, at least. While Jack wasn't a stickler for convention by any stretch of the imagination, everything with Ianto seemed to be happening a bit back to front. Mentally shrugging off his confusion, he instead concentrated on how nice Ianto's warm lips had felt against his own. He breathed in deeply as a hint of Ianto's masculine scent, as complex and alluring as the man himself, lingered in his nostrils.

"It's good to see you," Jack said softly, hoping to cover up any awkwardness on his part.

"You too," Ianto replied, his eyes warm as they gazed into Jack's. He picked up the bag again and jiggled it slightly. "I come bearing gifts."

"Really?" Jack said, feeling intrigued as he gestured for Ianto to follow him down the hallway and through to the kitchen.

"Yep," Ianto said with an impish grin as he placed the bag down on the bench-top and rummaged around inside it. "First, we have red wine," he said, extracting a bottle of merlot and passing it to Jack.

Jack glanced at the label before putting the bottle down. "Perfect," he said and nodded with approval.

"Next, we have pudding. Chocolate mud cake," Ianto continued, putting a white cardboard box down next to the wine. "It's good for the serotonin levels." He grinned teasingly at Jack. "And I know how much you like chocolate."

Jack felt an amused smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he lifted the lid of the box and sniffed at the rich aroma of dark chocolate appreciatively. "Mmm," he murmured, already looking forward to indulging in the decadent treat.

"But most importantly," Ianto finished as he removed the last three items from the bag – a cafetière, a compact burr grinder, and a generous sized bag of coffee beans – and set them down in front of Jack with a flourish. "Everything we need to make proper coffee."

"Wow. This is fantastic," Jack exclaimed, feeling a little awestruck. He was genuinely touched by Ianto's thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to go to so much trouble though," he added, suddenly feeling regretful for not putting as much effort into their evening together as Ianto had obviously done.

"No trouble," Ianto said lightly. "Besides, now I don't have to worry about what I'd be forced to do if you offered me instant again."

Jack growled good-naturedly. "Are you always this cheeky?"

Ianto shrugged. "Pretty much."

Jack's retort was cut off by the sound of the intercom again. "That should be dinner," he explained. "I thought about cooking something, but I didn't want to subject you to that. Not on our first… well not tonight. So I ordered Chinese instead." He looked at Ianto nervously. "Is that okay?"

"It's fine, Jack," Ianto replied with a reassuring smile.

"I'll just go down and grab it," Jack said hurriedly, patting his back pocket to make sure that he had his wallet. As an afterthought, he grabbed two glasses from one of the overhead cupboards and then retrieved a bottle opener from a nearby drawer, putting them down on the bench. "Do you want to open the wine?"

Ianto nodded, reaching for the bottle opener, while Jack walked to the door and proceeded down the hallway to collect their food.

Jack took a deep breath as he waited impatiently by the lift. The evening had only just begun, and he was already enjoying himself more than he had in what seemed like a very long time. He was determined to push everything aside, just for this one night. He had no idea what the coming days would bring, but at least he could enjoy their evening together, irrespective of what turns it might take along the way.

John's words echoed in his thoughts, telling him to find some happiness in the time he had left. And this one evening was probably as close to that as he was likely to get. John wouldn't have begrudged him that. He was sure of it, although he wasn't quite so sure if John would have approved of Jack becoming involved with his nephew. But Jack felt certain that John had loved them both, even if he and Ianto hadn't been close. He wanted to hope that John would have been happy for them to find some comfort with each other, even if only briefly.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, he decided that he really needed to stop torturing himself. Ianto wasn't an innocent youth who Jack was taking advantage of – he was a self-assured and confident man, and Jack certainly hadn't coerced him into anything. It was all quite bizarre when he stopped to think about it. He had probably ten years on Ianto, yet he was floundering around like a virginal teenager, while Ianto seemed to be entirely at ease.

With renewed determination, he pushed aside his doubts. Several minutes later, he'd greeted the delivery boy at the entrance of the building, paid for the food, and was walking back into the apartment with their dinner in hand.

Ianto's eyes grew wide as Jack dumped the enormous bag of food down on the bench and busied himself with retrieving plates and cutlery. "Er… Jack, how many other people have you invited over for dinner?" he asked with obvious amusement.

Jack looked at him in confusion, and then stopped to stare at the bag. He'd probably ordered four times more food than they could possibly eat between them. He chuckled a little. "I wasn't sure what you like, so I thought I'd get a selection."

Ianto smiled indulgently. "Well, on the plus side, you'll have enough leftovers to last you for a week."

"That's true," Jack acknowledged sheepishly, returning Ianto's smile.

Ianto helped him to move everything over to the glass coffee table in front of the sofa. He passed Jack his glass of wine as they both settled down next to each other. Jack took a mouthful of wine and hummed appreciatively as he allowed it to roll around in his mouth before swallowing it. "That's really good," he murmured.

Ianto took a sip too, and a wistful smile ghosted across his lips. "Mmm. It's one of my favourites," he stated softly. "I'm glad you like it."

Putting his glass down, Jack began unpacking the containers of food and was soon loading up a plate for Ianto, ignoring his protests about the quantity of food that Jack was serving him.

They ate in relative but comfortable silence, occasionally commenting on the food or making small talk about nothing in particular. Jack had spent a lot of time alone recently, and he was enjoying just sharing a quiet meal with someone outside of work. He wasn't feeling up to trying to be engaging or witty or entertaining, and Ianto didn't seem to mind in the least. While they didn't talk about John, Jack couldn't completely ignore the fact that the day after tomorrow, they would be attending his funeral.

It was a while later when Ianto pushed his plate onto the table with a satisfied sigh. Jack watched the younger man as he deftly topped up their glasses, emptying the bottle. He then settled back against the sofa, twirling the stem of the glass between his fingers before taking a generous sip. Ianto had eaten more than Jack had expected, but he noticed with amusement that various pieces of vegetables had been carefully pushed to one side of the otherwise empty plate.

"You didn't eat all your vegetables," Jack admonished teasingly.

Ianto pulled a face. "Please, Jack… don't get me started. I had to eat so many of them when I was little, I think I developed an aversion." He gave a dramatic shudder. "They're all right, but only in very small doses. Except for brussel sprouts. They're disgusting."

Jack chuckled and tried to imagine how a miniature Ianto Jones would have looked and acted. "Have some more fried rice then," he suggested and went to spoon some more onto Ianto's plate.

Ianto waved him off. "No, seriously, Jack, I'm stuffed. It was delicious though."

Jack relented and realising that he was full as well, he sealed up the containers that still had some food left in them. Pulling himself to his feet with a groan, he carried them over to the kitchen and jammed them into the refrigerator. Ianto had been absolutely right; he'd easily be able to get a few meals out of the leftovers.

He turned back and noticed that Ianto was watching him intently, his expression pensive. Then Ianto smiled at him, and smiling back, Jack returned to the sofa and sat down again. He rested his hand on Ianto's knee, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling away and picking up his glass again.

Jack sipped slowly at the remainder of his wine, savouring the rich, mellow flavour as it played across his tongue. The combination of the wine, good food, and gentle companionship had imbrued him with a feeling of contentment that he'd thought was nothing more than a distant memory. He could almost allow himself to believe that his life wasn't the unending nightmare it had recently turned into.

Ianto gave him a gentle nudge, breaking his reverie, and gestured at the entertainment unit along the opposite wall. "Mind if I put some music on?"

Jack smiled and shook his head. He took another sip of wine and watched idly as Ianto padded over to the shelves containing Jack's music collection. After perusing it for a minute, he plucked out a disc. He switched on the player, inserted the disc, and adjusted the volume so the soft, languid music quietly enveloped the room. Jack closed his eyes and concentrated on the gentle melody and haunting vocals. Ianto had somehow managed to select one of his favourite songs.

Ianto moved to stand in front of Jack and tentatively reached out his hand. "Dance with me?"

Jack opened his eyes and looked up at Ianto in surprise, but he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet as he put his glass down on the table. "Um, I've never danced with a man before," he said, looking at Ianto doubtfully. "And I've kind of got two left feet."

Ianto gave him a gentle smile. "That's okay. I'll show you."

They moved over to the empty space by the window. Ianto wrapped his left arm around Jack's waist and pulling him close, entwined the fingers of their other hands together. He rested their joined hands against his chest. Ianto gave Jack another smile and took the lead, gently guiding Jack to follow his steps. After a few initial stumbles they settled into a slow, swaying rhythm.

Jack's senses were quickly overwhelmed by the closeness of Ianto's presence. Once again he felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity tingling elusively at the edges of his mind. The sensation was at once both comforting and unsettling, but he forced himself to push the feelings aside, reminding himself of his commitment to enjoy the evening.

As if sensing Jack's disquiet, Ianto pressed himself closer, and he eased his head forward so that their cheeks rubbed softly together.

Revelling in the pleasure of Ianto's smooth face pressed against his own, their bodies tightly intertwined, Jack found himself imagining a lifetime of moments like this. He sighed deeply. "I could get used to this."

Ianto pulled back to meet his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Jack confirmed with a sad smile. "I just wish the timing had been different."

"I know," Ianto said, his voice tinged with regret. "We're here now though. That's what matters."

Jack nodded in agreement and attempted a reassuring smile, knowing that Ianto couldn't understand the full meaning behind his words.

Ianto looked at Jack intently, and an uncertain frown settled over his features. "Jack, I know we've only just met. But if you want this… us…" He trailed off awkwardly, and glanced away. But then he seemed to gather his resolve, and he looked into Jack's eyes again. "Well, for what it's worth, I want you to know I'm not going anywhere."

Jack's heart clenched with Ianto's sincerely spoken words. He pulled back slightly, looking away, not knowing how to respond.

"Unless, you don't…" Ianto began hesitantly.

"No," Jack replied hurriedly, inwardly cringing at the trace of hurt he'd heard in Ianto's voice. He looked back into Ianto's eyes and pulled him closer again. "No, it's not that. It's just…" He shook his head in frustration at his lack of eloquence. "Ianto, there are things you don't know about me."

Ianto shrugged, looking surprisingly unconcerned. "It's okay, Jack. You'll tell me when you're ready."

Jack nodded mutely. He wasn't ready to tell Ianto the truth, but he wanted to tell Ianto that it really wasn't okay, that nothing about this situation was all right, and that they could never really be anything, no matter how much they both wanted it. But with Ianto's solid warmth wrapped around him, making him feel protected, desired, and cared for, Jack found himself desperately wanting something real between them. He wanted it more than he'd wanted anything in a long time.

Pulling the younger man close to his chest, Jack buried his face against Ianto's neck, deeply breathing in his comforting scent. He didn't want Ianto to see the pain that he knew must have been written unmistakably across his face.

Ianto didn't say anything further. He pressed a tender kiss against Jack's temple, and held him close as they continued to dance.


	15. Chapter 15

This chapter brings the story to about the half-way point. Thanks again to everyone for reading, and especially to everyone who have reviewed. Please review and let me know what you think. I appreciate the feedback and it helps me to keep writing. Thanks as always to my amazing beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

Jack wasn't sure how long he and Ianto danced together. They clung to each other as one song drifted into the next, and time seemed to lose all meaning. But eventually the music ended, and a still silence settled over the room. Jack reluctantly lifted his head from where he'd been resting it on Ianto's shoulder, and he looked deeply into the other man's eyes, feeling almost afraid of what he might find in the intense blue depths.

Ianto held his gaze, his expression seeming less guarded than usual. The Welshman's eyes radiated both affection and concern, but also something deeper and more potent, yet seemingly tenuous and elusive. Jack wondered if he was being overly fanciful in thinking that the emotion he saw was a desperate longing; a realisation that something Ianto thought he had lost forever was once again, inexplicably, within his grasp.

Feeling a surge of desire consume him, Jack wrapped his hands around Ianto's face and pulled him into a slow, passionate kiss. Ianto didn't hesitate to respond, and Jack tried to pour everything he was feeling into the moment, hoping to convey at least a little of what he couldn't put into words.

"Thank you," Jack murmured gratefully as they pulled apart slightly and rested their foreheads against one another, their breaths mingling.

Ianto smiled softly in reply as he stroked his fingers soothingly down the length of Jack's spine. "So, how about some cake and coffee?" he suggested.

Jack almost laughed at the abrupt deflection, but he was thankful for Ianto's attempt to avoid any awkwardness. "Perfect," he replied and gave Ianto a cheeky grin as they drew out of their embrace. "I hope this coffee of yours lives up to the hype."

Ianto rolled his eyes, but Jack saw the playful tug of the corners of Ianto's mouth. "Well, Jack… you're about to find out," he countered, his voice taking on a deep, seductive edge.

It turned out that Ianto's coffee did, indeed, surpass all of Jack's expectations. He groaned almost obscenely as he took another sip from his cup. The rich, intense flavour of the coffee enveloped his senses, and it blended deliciously with the lingering taste of dark chocolate from the mouthful of cake he'd just greedily consumed.

"God, Ianto…" Jack murmured as he took another slow, indulgent sip. "This is spectacular."

Ianto gave him a rather self-satisfied smirk. "No more instant from now on then?"

"Ugh," Jack replied with a dramatic shudder. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to look at any other coffee again without feeling deeply disdainful.

Ianto smiled as he popped the last morsel of his cake into his mouth. Jack watched as Ianto slowly licked his lips before putting his plate down on the table. Ianto breathed out an odd little sigh, and then leaned back into the sofa as he closed his eyes.

Jack finished off his coffee and placed the cup down next to his empty plate. He turned and looked at Ianto for a long moment, studying the relaxed features of his youthful, unlined face. It would be so incredibly easy for him to fall hard for this man, he thought, feeling more than a little terrified by the sudden realisation. If he was entirely honest with himself, he was already part way there. He couldn't understand how it was possible for him to care so deeply about someone after such a short time, and even more surprisingly, that the object of his affection was another man. It was bordering on the absurd, even for him.

A renewed stab of guilt twisted inside of him. He knew that the selfless thing to do would to be to end things right away, before it became more complicated and Ianto got hurt. But it was probably already too late to avoid that, he realised with a twinge of regret. Whatever they might become in the short time they had, it would inevitably end in pain and heartbreak. The problem, he selfishly realised, was that he needed Ianto... and just maybe, Ianto needed him too.

The younger man opened his eyes at that moment, and they widened with concern as he looked at Jack, apparently picking up on the look of distress on Jack's face. "You okay?" he asked and reached for Jack's hand.

Jack nodded and gave Ianto's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah. Just thinking."

Ianto looked at him uncertainly. "Jack, um… look, I'm just going to say this and you can be honest with me. I won't mind." He paused awkwardly. "Do you want me to stay tonight?"

Jack was once again surprised that Ianto seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "Do you want to?" he asked cautiously, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Ianto smiled gently. "Yeah… I do."

Jack breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's good. I mean… I wanted to ask you, but I wasn't sure if…" He trailed off uncomfortably. They looked at each other pointedly, and then simultaneously burst into laughter at how ridiculous they both were.

Ianto stood up and tugged on Jack's hand. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

Jack flicked off the lights, and they made their way to the bedroom. Ianto took a moment to go down the hallway to where his jacket was hanging by the door, and he extracted a couple of items from the inside pocket. Surreptitiously slipping them into a pocket of his jeans, he returned to Jack's side, and gave him a tentative smile.

Jack was nervously excited. He'd assumed, and hoped, that they were going to have actual sex this time, and he knew that Ianto would be fully prepared for that eventuality. Ianto didn't seem to be a man who went into any situation unprepared. But the thrill of anticipation was tempered by what Jack hoped was merely a normal dose of anxiety. He'd never experienced anal sex before, and he wasn't sure what to expect. But he was certain that he could trust Ianto, and after their time together the day before, he knew that he had no reason to have any doubts. If he was brutally honest with himself, a large part of it was that he didn't want the more experienced younger man to be disappointed.

They reached the bedroom, and stood near to the bed, facing each other, close enough that Jack could feel the heat radiating off of Ianto's body. The curtains were closed and Jack had dimmed the lights, leaving the room bathed in a soft, intimate glow. Jack gazed into Ianto's dark eyes, and his heart began to pound in anticipation as Ianto stared back at him with obvious desire.

Reaching forward, Jack trailed his fingers over the soft material of Ianto's shirt, working upwards until he brushed over the skin at the hollow of his neck. Ianto gave him a nod of encouragement. Jack released the first fastened button, and pushed his hand beneath the fabric. He could feel Ianto's heart beating rapidly against his palm. He caressed Ianto's chest, and then continued to slowly undress him, touching and admiring each new expanse of flesh as it was revealed. They had the entire night together, and Jack wanted to take things slowly, savouring each and every moment.

Ianto repeated the process with Jack, painstakingly stripping away his clothes while caressing and kissing the exposed skin with tender reverence.

Staring at each other's naked bodies, it took only a moment before they surged together into a fierce embrace, their mouths colliding in a frantic, passionate kiss. Jack gripped Ianto's hips and pulled him tightly against his chest, desire coursing through him as Ianto's warm, bare skin pressed against his own. They moved against each other as their kiss continued, and Jack felt himself descend into a haze of lust and heat.

Eventually they pulled apart, both breathing heavily. Jack absently threw back the bed covers, and with a reassuring smile from Ianto, he lowered himself onto the bed, tugging Ianto down with him in a tangle of limbs. Rolling the younger man onto his back, Jack raised himself onto his knees and gazed down admiringly over the long length of Ianto's body.

Jack stroked his hand over Ianto's chest, taking his time to tease his thumbs over the tender flesh of both nipples. Ianto's eyes drifted closed, and he moaned softly in response, giving Jack all the encouragement he needed to continue exploring. Jack traced slowly down the column of dark hair to Ianto's navel, and teased his fingers through the fine strands as he followed the trail downwards.

He reached the thick nest of hair at Ianto's crotch and tangled his hand through it before ghosting his palm over Ianto's erect shaft. Ianto's breath hitched, and Jack felt him shudder in response to his touch. Encouraged by the reaction, Jack lowered his head between Ianto's legs and pressed kisses along the inside of his thigh. Then he licked up the length of Ianto's erection, taking the head into his mouth and lapping up the leaking fluid as Ianto let out a deep moan and trembled beneath him.

Jack continued sucking for several moments, revelling in Ianto's taste. He was tempted to keep going until Ianto came, drinking down every drop as Ianto had done with him the day before. He wanted to experience that for himself, but he didn't want it to be over so soon, so with a final swipe of his tongue, he reluctantly pulled away.

Raising himself back up to his knees, he looked back down at the younger man. Ianto had brought his arms up behind his head, revealing dense thatches of dark underarm hair. Their eyes locked, and Jack felt a shot of desire burn through him from the breathtaking sight of Ianto sprawled out before him, aroused and eager. Ianto was such a contrast to his own mostly hairless body, and Jack was utterly captivated, finding everything about the other man's masculinity intensely erotic. There was nothing about Ianto's body that he found the least bit distasteful, he realised. He wanted to touch, taste and explore every inch of him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, and he lowered himself down on top of the younger man, capturing his mouth in another deep kiss as he felt Ianto's arms curl around him.

Ianto smiled as they broke apart after languidly exploring each other's mouths. "So are you," he replied breathlessly.

Jack reluctantly eased away and settled himself against Ianto's side. "Really?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow as he trailed his fingers along Ianto's hip and down his thigh.

"Yeah," Ianto replied with a grin. "You're gorgeous, and you know it."

"True," Jack agreed, giving Ianto a cheeky smile and earning an eye roll in return. "But I've never had another man call me that before."

"Should I feel honoured to be the first then?" Ianto asked archly.

"Absolutely," Jack replied with feigned sincerity.

Silence settled between them as they stared intently at each other. Jack could see the lust burning in Ianto's eyes and he suddenly felt awkward again. He wasn't sure what Ianto would want them to do.

"Ianto, this is all new to me and..." he began uneasily, but trailed off wondering how this was normally discussed between two men.

Ianto's expression shifted and grew more serious. He found Jack's hand and entwined their fingers together. "Jack, we can do anything you want," he said gently.

"Anything?" Jack asked cautiously.

"Yep," Ianto confirmed, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh," Jack said, feeling his discomfort begin to ease. "So you don't mind who's, um, on top?"

"No," Ianto replied. He disengaged his hand and reached down to stroked along Jack's erection, causing him to groan deeply. "Do you want to be inside me?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I do," Jack said with relief as Ianto continued to stroke him. "It's not that I don't want to try the other way too, but since it's my first time…"

Ianto kissed him softly. "It's okay, Jack. I want you to take me," he murmured against Jack's lips.

Pulling away, Ianto reached down for his discarded jeans and retrieved the lubricant and condoms. He handed them to Jack and kissed him again. Then he settled back onto the bed and pulled up his knees, spreading his legs to give Jack access.

Jack simply stared dumbly for a moment. The thought of burying himself deep inside Ianto sent an intense shiver of desire coursing down his spine. Following Ianto's gentle guidance, he settled himself between Ianto's legs and coated his fingers with lube. He traced the ring of muscle gently with his fingertip, causing Ianto to tremble in response, and then eased his finger slowly inside.

Jack carefully prepared Ianto, using his fingers to slowly stretch out Ianto's tight opening. The Welshman moaned in pleasure as Jack's fingers pushed into him, and Jack was surprised to find that the entire process was incredibly erotic.

"I'm ready, Jack," Ianto said softly, looking up at him, his face flushed with arousal.

Jack quickly slipped on a condom and slicked himself up. He shuffled forward, but stopped with concern as he stared down at himself and then at Ianto's prepared entrance. He and Ianto were about the same size when erect, and they were both quite well endowed, although Jack was slightly thicker. But despite being well prepared, Ianto still looked impossibly tight.

Ianto seemed to pick up on his concern. "It's okay, Jack. You won't hurt me," he said reassuringly, trailing his hand down the length of Jack's arm.

Jack nodded, and taking a deep breath, he eased himself into Ianto, pausing as he felt some initial resistance. With Ianto's encouragement, he continued pressing slowly forward. He breathed out an involuntary gasp as the sensation of Ianto's heat and tightness almost overwhelmed him. He hadn't expected it to feel so incredible. Continuing to ease forward, he didn't stop until he was fully buried inside Ianto's body. Ianto shuddered beneath him and let out a deep, satisfied groan.

Ianto reached his arms up and grasped Jack's shoulders, pulling him down and into a long, hungry kiss. "Feels amazing having you inside me, Jack," Ianto murmured against his lips.

Jack could only manage an incoherent groan in response. They eased apart again, but kept their eyes fixed on each other. Ianto thrust down against him, clenching around Jack's shaft, silently signalling for him to start moving.

Satisfied that he'd given Ianto enough time to adjust, Jack slowly pulled almost all the way out and then buried himself inside Ianto again. Ianto gasped and writhed beneath him as he grabbed at Jack's hips. Jack began to thrust, establishing a slow, steady rhythm, resisting the urge to increase his speed. He wanted the experience to last as long as possible for both of them.

As he continued to thrust with long, deep strokes, Jack watched in awe as Ianto slowly came undone. Ianto's skin was flushed and had begun to bead with sweat. His lips were parted, and his breathing had become shallow and rapid. Jack leaned down, and Ianto's long legs wrapped around him as they kissed fiercely again. With the change in angle, a euphoric cry escaped from Ianto's lips, and Jack could feel Ianto's body quiver beneath him. He realised that he'd found Ianto's prostate, and he focused on hitting it with each thrust.

Realising that neither of them were going to last much longer, Jack raised himself up again and grabbed hold of Ianto's erection in his right hand. Curling his fingers in a tight fist, he began stroking in counterpoint to his thrusts.

"Oh, God," Ianto moaned, sounding barely coherent as their eyes locked onto each other again.

Ianto's left hand held onto Jack's hip, while his right reached for Jack and roamed over his chest, teasing at the sensitive skin of his nipples. Jack sucked in a sharp breath and moaned deeply.

Feeling the familiar surge build deep within him, Jack pumped harder with his hand. He wanted them to come together and he was certain that Ianto was incredibly close too. "Can't... hold on," Jack gasped, desperate for release but not wanting it to end so soon.

Unable to hold back any longer, Jack managed two more deep thrusts before he reached his climax. Buried all the way in Ianto, he came hard, groaning out the other man's name from deep in his throat. His vision blurred as wave after wave of pleasure surged through him.

With a final stroke of Jack's hand, Ianto followed, his body arcing upwards as he erupted, spilling out in powerful bursts over his stomach and chest. "Jack…" he groaned between ragged breaths, dragging out his name before drifting into incoherent sounds of blissful contentment.

Jack slowly pulled himself out of Ianto, registering the other man's disappointed moan at the sudden loss. He rolled off the used condom and tossed it into the small bin he kept next to the bedside table. Then he collapsed beside Ianto in a limp heap.

Jack's entire body was trembling, and he was panting hard as he tried to catch his breath. Ianto wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a close embrace, pressing their sweat-dampened skin together.

"Wow," Jack managed to exclaim between gasping breaths.

"Yeah," Ianto replied, equally breathless.

As Jack's breathing began to return to normal, he tilted his head and met Ianto's eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, feeling concerned. "Did I hurt you?"

Ianto reached for Jack's hand and tangled their fingers together. "Not at all," he said in a reassuring tone. "Um, Jack... was this really your first time with another man?"

"Yup," Jack confirmed, wondering what Ianto was thinking.

Ianto looked at him with something resembling awe. "Huh. Must be natural talent then."

Jack chuckled softly, relieved that he hadn't disappointed Ianto, and just a little bit pleased with his performance given the circumstances. "I guess so."

Feeling a warm rush of affection for the younger man, Jack claimed his mouth in a lingering kiss. With a playful bite of Ianto's lower lip, Jack trailed kisses down the soft flesh of Ianto's throat, then worked his way over Ianto's slick torso, lapping up every trace of his release and savouring the intense, bitter-sweet taste. Moving slowly upwards, Jack found Ianto's lips again, and they kissed leisurely while their hands gently explored and caressed.

A deep sense of contentment settled over Jack's mind, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. The effort soon became too great. He breathed in deeply and rested his head on Ianto's shoulder as the younger man pulled the covers up over them. Ianto's lips brush against his cheek, and Jack drifted into unconsciousness, wrapped securely in the Welshman's arms.


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks again to everyone for reading and reviewing. Hope you all enjoy the new chapter. Special thanks as always to my very talented and generous beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

Jack woke early the following morning. A dull ache throbbed at the back of his skull – his daily reminder of the hand fate had dealt him. But it didn't feel as bad as it often was, and he tried to accept the small reprieve gratefully. Stretching out his legs with a sigh, he rubbed at his eyes and glanced around blearily. Dappled early morning light pressed into the room, giving it a comforting, almost ethereal ambiance.

His attention was drawn almost immediately to the sound of gentle, barely audible snoring. He turned his head and gazed at his companion. He felt an affectionate smile pull at the corners of his mouth. Ianto was sprawled on his front next to him, sleeping peacefully, his head turned towards Jack, and his mouth slightly parted. Even in Ianto's sleep dishevelled state, with his hair ruffled and sticking out at all angles, complimented by a stubble darkened jaw, Jack was once again struck by how utterly beautiful he found the younger man.

As the last vestiges of sleep lingered over his mind, he closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to drift. He couldn't remember ever thinking about another man in that way. He'd admired other men of course, and had often seen men, either in the media or in normal day-to-day life, whom he considered to be very handsome. But he couldn't remember ever feeling sexually or romantically attracted to another man. At least, not to any great extent – never enough to act on – and nothing like the deep stirrings of desire he felt for the remarkable and enigmatic man currently lying beside him. It was strange, and incredible, and terrifying all at once.

Opening his eyes, he pulled himself up and looked down at Ianto's sleeping form again. He only just managed to resist the urge to pull Ianto into his arms and wake him with gentle kisses against his pale, sleep-warmed skin. Instead, he carefully extricated himself from the bed, taking a moment to gently pull the covers up from where they'd slipped down Ianto's bare back. Grabbing his discarded underwear from their pile of tangled clothing on the floor, he moved quietly into the en-suite, and closed the door.

After using the toilet, he tugged on his underwear and took some painkillers. Pausing to look at himself in the mirror, he bemoaned his somewhat drawn features and unruly bed-mussed hair. He made a half-hearted attempt to flatten it down, but he quickly gave up in exasperation and made his way out of the bedroom.

Jack walked into the kitchen area, filled the kettle with water, and turned it on. Despite having carefully watched Ianto's talented hands produce coffee magic the night before, he decided to forgo his own attempt until he'd had a chance to practice on his own. He settled on making two mugs of strong tea instead.

As he waited for the kettle to boil, he thought back to the previous evening. He could try to fool himself into thinking that what he and Ianto had shared was some fantastic, deeply satisfying sex, and nothing more. But he knew that wasn't true – not for either of them. What he felt for Ianto went beyond lust and physical attraction. He was also sure that it wasn't just loneliness on his part, or a means of distracting himself from his grief over John. There was a deeper and more profound connection between them. He still didn't understand how that was possible, but after the evening they'd just shared, he couldn't deny it either.

The kettle boiled, and he absently prepared their tea as he continued to reflect. He decided that before things went any further, he needed to tell Ianto the truth. Jack didn't consider himself to be an especially honourable man, but he wasn't a total bastard either. It wasn't fair to allow Ianto to believe that they could share anything more than a mutually satisfying, but necessarily brief physical relationship. At least by telling Ianto the truth, Jack hoped he could take a measure of comfort in knowing that he'd tried to do what he thought was best.

With a deep, weary sigh and a heavy heart, Jack picked up the two steaming mugs, and carried them through to the bedroom. He put the mugs down on the bedside table and climbed back into bed. Rearranging the pillows behind him, Jack settled against the head of the bed and turned his attention once again to Ianto's relaxed features. This time four days ago, he hadn't even heard the name Ianto Jones, he reminded himself. Yet he felt like he was about to lose the one good thing in his otherwise wretched existence.

He was so lost in his thoughts that it took him a moment to realise that a pair of sleepy blue eyes were gazing up at him. "Hey," Jack said quietly and smiled down at Ianto.

"Morning," Ianto mumbled, his accent thickened from sleep.

Ianto stretched himself out languidly and then pulled himself up so that he was level with Jack. The bed covers fell away and settled low on his hips. Wrapping himself around Jack, he leaned forward and gave Jack a gentle, lingering kiss. Jack returned the kiss and held Ianto against him, enjoying the contact of their bare skin. He could feel Ianto's morning arousal pressing against his hip, and his own body began to respond. He thought sadly that he'd almost forgotten how nice it was not to wake up alone. He just hoped that it wouldn't be the last time.

"This is nice way to the start the day," Jack murmured, voicing his thoughts out loud. "Waking up with a sleepy, gorgeous Welshman."

"I could say the same," Ianto returned, his voice still rough as he nuzzled against Jack's neck.

"I'm only half Welsh," Jack pointed out with a sigh, enjoying the sensation of Ianto's stubbled chin scratching lightly against his shoulder.

"Same as me," Ianto added as he tightened his arms around Jack's chest.

Jack chuckled. "That's true. I'd forgotten that. I guess you just seem so much more Welsh than me. Not that anyone would think I'm Welsh at all."

"Has that ever bothered you?" Ianto asked, sounding curious and pulling back to meet Jack's eyes.

Jack dipped his head forward and placed a kiss against Ianto's cheek, allowing his lips to linger for a moment before meeting Ianto's gaze again. "No, not really," he replied thoughtfully.

Ianto pulled back and looked intently at Jack, a hesitant smile ghosting over his lips. Jack had to force himself not to look away as he caught the glimmer of hope in Ianto's stormy blue eyes. "So, is this something you'd like to do again?" Ianto asked him.

"Yeah," Jack admitted, knowing he should have sounded far more enthusiastic, but not quite managing to mask the sadness from his voice.

He sighed and pulled away. Ianto watched him carefully, a frown creasing his forehead. Jack inwardly cringed at the hurt he could see written across Ianto's features.

He picked up one of the mugs and passed it to him. "Here, I made some tea."

Ianto accepted the mug silently. He tugged the bed covers up around his waist, but he didn't take his eyes away from Jack. Picking up his own mug, Jack wrapped his hands around the smooth surface, took a long sip, and tried to summon his courage.

"Ianto," Jack began quietly, forcing himself to meet Ianto's searching gaze. "Remember what I said last night? That there are things you don't know about me?"

Ianto nodded and took a sip of his tea. "Yes, of course."

Jack sighed again and put his mug down on the table. He brought his right hand up and rubbed it across his face. Looking down at his mostly naked body, he belatedly realised that it probably wasn't the best time or location for this particular discussion. He suddenly felt exposed and very vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, he told himself that he just needed to get this over with. He looked directly into Ianto's eyes and blurted out, "I'm dying."

Ianto froze and looked at him with an expression of horrified shock. "What?"

"Three weeks ago I was diagnosed with a brain tumour," Jack explained, trying desperately to keep his voice steady. "It's incurable and fatal."

A flash of intense anger washed over Ianto's features, and his eyes turned hard as he continued to look intently at Jack. Then, just as suddenly, his expression cleared, and was replaced with one of great sadness. Jack blinked, wondering if he'd imagined the rapid transformation.

"I'm sorry," Jack continued quickly, thinking that Ianto was furious with him. "I should have told you last night, before…"

"No. It's okay," Ianto said, cutting him off and moving closer to him. "Do you know how long?" he asked quietly.

"Six months if I'm lucky," Jack replied matter-of-factly. "Maybe twelve months with aggressive treatment, but the treatment would keep me in hospital for most of the time, and I don't want that. I want to be able to live as normally as I can for the time I've got left."

"And you're sure nothing else can be done?"

"Positive," Jack stated emphatically.

"I'm sorry," Ianto said sadly, looking like he wanted to say more but didn't have the words.

"It's okay," Jack assured him, forcing a wistful smile. "There's nothing to say. I've accepted it. I just… well it's only fair that you know the truth before things between us go any further."

Ianto nodded and looked away, appearing to be lost in thought. Jack couldn't blame him. It was a lot to process and not something that anyone expected to hear from a potential new boyfriend, if that was how Ianto saw him.

Jack rested his hand on Ianto's knee. "You should go," he said sadly, but firmly. "Walk out the door and never look back. I won't blame you."

Ianto looked back at him, eyes widening in disbelief. "Is that what you want?"

Jack shook his head miserably. "I can't offer you anything, Ianto. I'm sorry."

"So you want me to abandon you?" Ianto retorted, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Jack sighed. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Jack turned away, not knowing what else to say. He picked up his mug, took a gulp of tea, and closed his eyes as the silence hung uncomfortably between them.

"Jack, tell me honestly," Ianto said quietly after a long, awkward moment. "Is that what you really want? Do you want me to walk away?"

Jack put down his mug again and turned to face Ianto. He wanted to lie but knew he wouldn't get away with it under Ianto's intense scrutiny. "No," he replied in barely a whisper.

"Right," Ianto replied resolutely. "Then I'm not going anywhere."

"Ianto…" Jack tried again. "I don't want your pity."

"And you won't be getting it," Ianto said sharply, and then he sighed. "I like you, Jack. I like being with you. I think you like being with me." He paused and looked down, pulling self-consciously at the covers. Then he looked up at Jack again. "So we take things a day at a time, and try to make the most of whatever time we have."

"And if we stay together until the end?" Jack asked warily.

"Then you won't have to face it alone," Ianto replied. "I'll grieve, and I'll have to move on. I'm not saying it isn't going to hurt like hell. But at least we'll have the memories of our time together to hold onto. If I walked away now…" He paused again and looked at Jack sadly. "I'd regret that for the rest of my life." He put his mug down and reached for Jack's hand. "Don't ask me to do that," he said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Jack looked at Ianto in astonishment, momentarily speechless. He could see the steely determination in the other man's eyes, and he was overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of the conversation. He'd been so sure that Ianto would want to walk away, and he realised that he'd done the younger man a great disservice.

"All right," Jack agreed a little hesitantly.

Ianto looked genuinely relieved. He moved closer and pulled Jack into a deep, desperate kiss. They slid down onto the bed in a tangle of limbs as they continue to touch and kiss each other.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a stubborn bastard?" Jack muttered as they broke apart.

Ianto gave Jack a disarming smile. He reached down, and with Jack's help, tugged off his underwear and then began stroking him firmly.

Jack groaned in response, the sudden rush of arousal banishing all coherent thought from his mind. His focus shifted to the pleasure Ianto was giving him, and all he wanted was to enjoy the moment and return it in equal measure.

"You just did," Ianto murmured and kissed him again.


	17. Chapter 17

Enjoy the new chapter! Special thanks to my fantastic beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

Jack stood on the rooftop of the Millennium Centre and gazed across the vista of Cardiff Bay. Slate grey clouds hung in the air, low and oppressive, but they didn't diminish his appreciation of the spectacular view. Weak rays of sunlight pushed through the dense cloud cover and bounced over the surface of the copper-coloured steel beneath his feet.

He shouldn't have been there, and he was careful to remain far enough from the edge so that he wouldn't be spotted by anyone on the ground below. His access to the rooftop had been a gift from John. Jack didn't know how his friend had arranged it, but he'd somehow managed to acquire a security pass for the Centre, granting Jack surreptitious access to a staff-only entrance. Beyond that entrance was a stairwell that continued all the way up to the roof of the imposing building.

John had indulged Jack's love of heights, and sometimes he'd even joined him on the roof, while teasing him about his 'king of the world' fantasy. Jack smiled fondly at the memory while his heart clenched with sorrow. Most of the time, Jack had come up to the rooftop alone. It was his favourite place to come to when he wanted solitude, or perspective, or just space to think without any unwelcome distractions.

It was a little before noon. Jack allowed his thoughts to drift back over the past few hours. After their difficult conversation, he and Ianto had indulged in some admittedly fantastic oral sex, and Jack had accomplished his desire to return Ianto's favour from their first time together. He'd been worried that with his admission, Ianto would see him differently. He didn't want Ianto to treat him with pity, or feel obligated, or look at him as damaged, or somehow tainted. But he was surprised to find that nothing seemed to have changed. Ianto still looked at him with affection and desire.

Afterwards, they'd dozed for an hour or so, holding tightly to each other. Finally dragging themselves out of bed, they'd showered together, taking far longer than was strictly necessary. That was an experience that Jack felt sure he wouldn't forget. Once clean and dressed, they'd had breakfast accompanied by Ianto's spectacular coffee. Ianto had then given him a quick kiss goodbye and disappeared out the door, promising to call him later that evening.

Jack was relieved that Ianto hadn't suggested meeting for lunch or dinner. After his revelation, it seemed prudent that they have a little space from each other to come to terms with the situation. Also, they had John's funeral to get through tomorrow.

The entire morning had been surreal and strangely domestic. Without any discussion on the subject, it appeared they were now in a relationship of sorts. Ianto seemed to be entirely comfortable with that, and Jack had to admit that he didn't have any objections either. His only misgiving was the pain that his imminent demise might cause the younger man. He despaired at the thought of Ianto grieving for him, especially so soon after John. However, he couldn't deny that the idea of not having to face the coming months alone was an immeasurable relief.

Regardless of his concerns, Jack doubted that anything he could do or say would break Ianto's resolve. He'd seem the resolute determination in his eyes. Jack knew that he had quite a stubborn nature himself, but he felt certain that it paled in comparison to Ianto's. He would just have to fervently hope that Ianto wasn't making a mistake that he'd live to regret.

Jack almost wanted to laugh hysterically at the sheer bizarreness of it all. It seemed that, quite by accident, he'd found himself a boyfriend.

He pondered that for a moment, and then, forcing his mind to change gears, he returned to ruminating over John's video message and his ominous warning. He needed to find the message that John had left in the system. He couldn't risk leaving it in there with the possibility of it falling into anyone else's hands. He just wasn't sure what he was going to do with the message once he'd found it. Part of him wanted to heed John's warning, and simply walk away from the project.

He'd feel bad about leaving, but the others would continue on without him, and they'd have to do that soon enough anyway. They'd be angry with him, but he could always tell them the truth, and he was sure they'd understand. Perhaps he and Ianto could travel a little if the younger man was willing. Now that he potentially had someone to share his time with, the prospect wasn't as unappealing as it had once been.

Sighing heavily, Jack took one last look over his tiny part of the world. He slowly turned on the spot to take in every aspect of the stunning three hundred and sixty degree panorama. Then he retreated to the access hatch and the stairwell below, and reluctantly left the rooftop behind.

Jack was still lost in thought as he made his way on foot from the Millennium Centre back towards his apartment. The wind had picked up, and he shivered as the cold air chilled his skin. He pulled his coat tightly around his body, turning up the collar, and digging his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

He'd almost reached the end of the narrow laneway across from his building when he heard footsteps approach him from behind. He turned and saw a wiry man dressed in tight black jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket heading directly towards him. Jack reflexively quickened his pace.

"Jack… Jack Harkness," the man called as he closed the distance between them.

Jack abruptly stopped walking, surprised to hear his name. He turned around and looked suspiciously at the stranger as he came to a stop in front of him. He studied the man's face, noticing the cruel, leering mouth and sculptured cheekbones. He'd never seen the man before, and he was both surprised and a little disturbed that this stranger knew his name.

"I think it's time you and I had a little talk, Jack," the man said, looking at him appraisingly and with an undercurrent of menace in his voice.

Jack involuntarily took a step back as he stared into the man's narrowed icy blue eyes. "Do I know you?"

"No. But I know all about you." The man's mouth twisted into an unpleasant smile as he moved closer. "And, I know what you did the other night."

Jack tensed and felt an instinct to flee, realising he was in danger. But Jack wasn't a man who would run from a fight, and he couldn't quite prevent his curiosity from taking hold. "What are you talking about? Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

The man looked at Jack coldly. "I saw you with him that night. You met him at the bar, and you left together. A few hours later, he's found gutted behind that same bar." His eyes narrowed into dark slits. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened."

Jack felt his eyes widening in shock. "You saw John that night? You saw who he was with?"

The man leaned in closer, and Jack could smell beer on his breath. "I saw him with _you_, you sick bastard," he hissed.

Jack looked at him with a mixture of shock and confusion. "I wasn't anywhere near that bar."

"Well maybe the cops would like to hear about what you've been up to?" the man suggested, pulling back and looking thoughtful. His eyes roved over Jack appraisingly. "So, I'm thinking two hundred thousand should be enough," he continued conversationally. "I wouldn't want you to think I'm greedy." He shrugged casually. "Seems like a small price for you to pay to keep your sorry arse out of jail."

"You want me to give you money?" Jack asked incredulously, reflexively clenching his fists as his mind reeled with the notion that this man thought he'd killed John.

The man looked back at him almost pityingly. "You've got twenty-four hours. Or I start talking."

Jack squared his shoulders and pulled himself up to his full height. He glared back at the stranger. "You're not getting a penny out of me," he ground out defiantly, hoping to intimidate the other man with his greater stature and build.

Without warning, the man's arm shot forward and a hard fist slammed viciously into Jack's stomach, throwing him back against the brick wall behind him. Jack groaned in pain and doubled over, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as he struggled to stay on his feet. He looked up at the man towering over him, and suddenly felt genuinely afraid.

"You might want to reconsider that," the man suggested lazily. "Even if you don't care about what happens to you, here's something to think about… I've seen that cute piece of eye candy you've been getting around with. And I know where he lives." He paused and tilted his head as he continued to stare at Jack. "Maybe he'd like to know that his boyfriend's a murderer?" His expression turned into a predatory grin, leaving Jack with no doubt about exactly what the man was capable of. "Or maybe he just needs someone better than you to show him a good time."

"You leave him alone," Jack snarled, pushing himself upright against the wall, wincing from the pain in his abdomen. "If you so much as touch him…"

"You'll what?" the other man taunted, and crossed his arms across his chest. He looked almost amused. "Kill me? I'd like to see you try."

"Just leave him out of this," Jack implored. "Please," he added in a broken whisper as his mind filled with horrendous images.

"Twenty-four hours," the man iterated as he pressed forward and stabbed a finger at Jack's chest. "Have the money by then, and I won't go near him. And don't worry about how to find me… I'll find you." His mouth twisted into a nasty smile. "And if you don't have it… well let's just say our next conversation is going to be far less pleasant."

He turned and sauntered away down the lane, going back in the direction from which he'd come. "See you around, Jack," he called back over his shoulder.

Jack stared after him for a long moment, trembling with a mixture of fear, anger, and confusion. He tried to take a deep steadying breath as he held his hand against his aching stomach. He couldn't understand what sort of sick game this lunatic was playing at. He hadn't been anywhere near that bar on Sunday night, and he wasn't a murderer, let alone the killer of the man who had been his closest friend. It was utterly insane.

Assuming this stranger was telling the truth, however unlikely that seemed, the only reasonable explanation was that John's murderer looked like him. Jack rationalised that it wasn't entirely impossible that John's murderer might look similar to him, at least at a distant glance. Perhaps his stalker had just gotten it into his head that the murderer and Jack were one and the same person because of a passing similarity. Although that didn't explain who this doppelganger was, or why John would have been meeting him.

Jack's thoughts briefly turned to the nightmares he'd been plagued with for the last few months. He couldn't deny that the nature of the dreams seemed to be more than just a coincidence. He shuddered at the thought, but quickly pushed it away. His condition might be having a deleterious effect on his cognitive abilities, but it couldn't turn him into a psychopathic serial-killer. Besides, the man could hardly be described as a poster boy for mental stability, so it didn't seem to be that much of a stretch that he might be delusional. And it probably wasn't much of a leap to assume that Jack wasn't the first person he'd tried to blackmail. Nevertheless, Jack had to acknowledge that the man was clearly a sociopath, and therefore unpredictable and dangerous.

Hurrying out of the laneway, Jack made his way across the street and veered off in the direction of John's apartment. As he quickened his pace, he desperately fumbled to retrieve his phone from the inside pocket of his coat. The thought at the forefront of his mind was that he needed to warn Ianto immediately.

The despicable bastard had been right about one thing, Jack thought. He didn't care what happened to himself any longer, but he was determined to do whatever it took to keep Ianto safe.

Even if that meant getting Ianto as far away from Cardiff – and Jack – as possible.


	18. Chapter 18

Thanks to everyone for reading. Hope you enjoy the new chapter. I'd love to hear what you think... please review if you can. Huge thanks as always to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

Jack was on the verge of full-scale panic as he paced anxiously around his living room. It was after seven PM, and he hadn't been able to find or contact Ianto. He'd been trying to phone the younger man all afternoon without success, only belatedly realising that he didn't have Ianto's mobile number. He wasn't even sure if Ianto had a mobile phone. When he'd stopped to actually think about it, he couldn't recall seeing any evidence of him owning one. Jack's only way of contacting him was via the landline at John's apartment.

After his altercation with the blackmailer earlier that day, Jack had raced to John's apartment. He'd frantically hammered on the door for several minutes and then let himself inside. He'd briefly considered the wisdom of infringing on Ianto's privacy like that. It was no longer John's home, it was Ianto's, but he'd hoped that the younger man would understand given the situation. He'd waited restlessly in the apartment for an hour or so, hoping that Ianto had just gone out to buy some lunch or gone for a brief walk. As he'd waited anxiously for Ianto to return, he hadn't been able to help noticing that the apartment had a definite feeling of being unlived in. He suspected that Ianto was obsessively neat in all aspects of his life, but as Jack had looked around, he could see little tangible evidence that Ianto was actually living there at all. He'd concluded that the only evidence would be found in the bathroom and bedroom. While he had been tempted to take a quick look, he'd chosen to respect Ianto's privacy.

He was sure that Ianto hadn't mentioned any specific plans for the day when they'd parted after breakfast, but Jack realised that he hadn't asked either. He wasn't used to doing the attentive boyfriend routine, even under the best of circumstances. Jack wasn't sure if he'd ever managed to do that with any degree of success. He was aware that he could be rather self-absorbed at times. He decided that if things ever settled down, he'd have to try to do better if he expected Ianto to stay around.

Eventually Jack had returned home and settled for calling John's number at regular intervals. He'd tried to occupy himself with mundane chores as the afternoon wore on, but his mind kept leaping to all manner of horrific scenarios. Part of him knew that he wasn't being especially rational, but these were exceptional circumstances. With John's killer still out there somewhere, the added threat of a sociopath with his sights set on the two of them, and John's disquieting message racing around in his head, Jack felt he was fully justified in being seriously worried. With each passing day, it seemed that the world he inhabited became a darker, more dangerous, and genuinely frightening place in which to live.

Remembering that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, he stopped pacing and moved to the kitchen, busying himself with heating up some leftovers from the previous night. He poured himself a measure of scotch and forced himself to sit down on the sofa. He stared at the bowl of food he'd prepared distastefully, grimacing at both the sight and smell. His stomach churned, and it felt like it was full of rats. After managing to push a few chunks of food into his mouth, he pushed the plate away with a sigh, and quickly downed the alcohol instead.

He grabbed his phone from the coffee table and tried calling Ianto again. There was still no answer. He considered going back to John's apartment, but as he stared out at the heavy downpour lashing through the black Cardiff sky, he knew it would be a futile exercise. Pulling his legs up to his chest, he buried his face against his knees and tried to settle his troubling thoughts.

It was almost two hours later when Jack jumped with a start as his phone started to ring. Grabbing it roughly, he felt a surge of relief as he looked down at the screen and saw that the incoming call was from John's phone.

He brought the handset up to his ear with a slightly trembling hand. "Ianto?"

"_Jack, hi…"_

Jack abruptly cut him off. "Where the hell have you been?" he shouted, and immediately cursed himself for being hysterical. "I've been trying to reach you since lunchtime."

"_Er… I was out."_

"Are you all right?" Jack asked, after taking a deep breath and telling himself to calm down.

"_Yes, I'm fine…"_

"Stay right there. Don't leave the apartment. I'm coming to get you."

"_Jack, what's going on?"_

"I'll tell you when I get there," he replied tersely. "See you in a few minutes."

Jack disconnected the call and collapsed back against the sofa, rubbing his hand roughly across his face. He admonished himself for being ridiculous, allowing his paranoia to take over. Yet he was curious about where Ianto had been all day. There was so much he didn't know about the other man, and the shadow of doubt resurfaced as he wondered again if he could actually trust him. In fairness, he knew that Ianto didn't know much about him either. They were almost complete strangers, yet they'd rushed headlong into a torrid, entangled relationship. It also didn't help that Ianto seemed to be at a distinct advantage in all aspects of their association thus far. He had been from the moment they'd met.

Rising to his feet, Jack quickly donned his discarded shoes, shoved his phone, wallet, and keys into his pockets, and headed out the door.

Within a matter of minutes he had parked his car outside of Ianto's building and was knocking on his front door. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a casually dressed Ianto who was looking at Jack with a mixture of confusion and concern.

Jack had managed to regain his composure, but he hadn't quite been able to let go of his fear for the younger man's safety. Before Ianto could utter a word, Jack surged forward and pulled him into a fierce hug.

"Thank God you're okay," he murmured as he pulled Ianto tightly to his chest and buried his face into his neck, breathing in his scent.

Ianto accepted the embrace and wrapped his arms around Jack, but after a moment of clinging to each other, he eased back until their eyes met. "What's going on, Jack?"

"Will you come back to my place for the night? Bring whatever you need for tomorrow. I'll explain when we get there." Jack forced out a shaky breath. "Please, Ianto," he added when it looked like the other man was about to protest.

Ianto held his gaze for a moment but then nodded. "Just give me a couple of minutes."

Jack didn't venture further inside, deciding instead to wait by the door. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. After spending a couple of hours in the apartment earlier that day, he didn't want to be there again. There were just too many memories, and his grief was still too raw. He realised that eventually he might feel more comfortable being there, but he almost hoped that Ianto would decide to sell the apartment and find somewhere else that he could make his own.

Ianto returned a few minutes later with a garment bag slung over his arm which Jack assumed held Ianto's suit for the funeral. A compact overnight bag was in his other hand.

Jack pushed away from the wall and opened the door. "Got everything?"

"Yup," Ianto answered as he flicked off the lights and joined Jack at the threshold.

"Okay, let's go."

The short trip through the rain soaked streets was made in silence. Jack kept his eyes focused firmly on the slick roads, but he could see Ianto glancing at him worriedly out of the corner of his eye. Ianto had probably decided that he'd lost his mind, he thought ruefully. Jack wasn't entirely sure that he'd have been mistaken.

They arrived back at Jack's apartment without incident. Jack ushered Ianto inside and they performed the usual routine of discarding jackets and shoes.

"Take those through to the bedroom if you like," Jack suggested, indicating Ianto's bags. He headed towards the kitchen. "Do you want a drink?" he called back.

"Do I need one?" Ianto returned archly.

"Yeah," Jack answered with a sigh. "I think you will."

Once they were settled on the sofa, drinks in hand, Jack turned to the other man and looked at him inquisitively. "Where were you all day? I know it's none of my business…" He trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

"Nothing special," Ianto replied with a slight shrug. "Just wandering around. Spent some time at Cardiff Castle, and then I went to visit one of my mum's old friends. She seems lonely, and she insisted I stay for dinner. I'd just got back to the apartment when I called you."

Jack nodded, feeling rather foolish. "Sorry. I got kind of frantic when I couldn't reach you. I realised I didn't have your mobile number, and you weren't at home, so I didn't have any way to contact you."

"Oh. I lost my phone just before I arrived in Cardiff. I've been meaning to get a new one." He paused and looked at Jack intently. "Jack, are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Jack took a mouthful of his drink, and then began to recount the earlier events of the day. To Ianto's credit, he listened attentively and without interruption as Jack talked.

"Shit," Ianto said succinctly when Jack had finished.

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Jack agreed.

Ianto's eyes dropped to the region of Jack's stomach. "Are you all right?"

Jack couldn't help but feel pleased that Ianto's first question was about his well-being. He reflexively rubbed his hand over the sore area. "It's a bit tender, but I don't think there's any serious damage." He shook his head regretfully. "That bastard's strong, and he has a mean fist. I should have fought back, and I probably could have taken him. I was just too shocked I suppose."

"Probably best that you didn't. It might have provoked him and made things worse." Ianto frowned, and his expression became pensive. "What are we going to do then?"

Jack finished his drink and put the empty glass down on the table. "You should leave, Ianto. As long as you're not here in Cardiff, you'll be safe. He's only set his sights on you because he knows it's the best way he can hurt me."

Ianto narrowed his eyes and looked at Jack searchingly. "Will you come with me?"

Jack breathed out a heavy sigh. He desperately wanted to answer in the affirmative. "I can't. I've got responsibilities here."

"Then I'm not running away and leaving you behind to deal with this," Ianto argued firmly. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

"But we don't know when he might try something," Jack retorted, wishing that Ianto wasn't so infuriatingly stubborn. "You can't be looking over your shoulder constantly. And I'm not saying you're not good in a fight, but if he gets the jump on you…" He shuddered inwardly at the thought. "I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you," he mumbled as he looked away, unable to meet Ianto's eyes. "And it would all be my fault. I couldn't live with that."

Ianto rested his hand on Jack's knee and gave a reassuring squeeze. "We'll work something out," he said with determination. "We could talk to Gwen Cooper?"

Jack shook his head. "There's nothing the police can do. He hasn't actually done anything yet. Anyway, what if he talks to them first? He thinks I killed John."

Ianto's expression hardened. "But you didn't. He can't possibly have any evidence." Jack looked into Ianto's eyes and saw conviction and trust shining back at him. "You're not a murderer, Jack," Ianto added vehemently.

"Are you sure about that?" Jack asked, giving voice to his fear. "I've been having blackouts and these terrible nightmares. What if I did it and I can't remember?"

Ianto looked thoughtful. "Putting everything else aside for a moment," he began. "What would your motive have been? John was your best friend. You didn't have any grudge against him did you?"

"No, of course not," Jack replied quickly. "But maybe there's something in me that wants to kill," he added in a fearful whisper. "Something brought on by my condition. And I'm not even aware of it."

Ianto reached for Jack's hand and wrapped it firmly in his own. "I don't believe that. You're a good man, Jack." Ianto's eyes flashed with anger. "This bastard is toying with you. It's just some sick, twisted game he's playing."

Jack wished he could believe that. But there were too many things that didn't make sense, and too many bizarre coincidences. "I'm scared, Ianto," he whispered.

"We'll figure this out," Ianto reiterated firmly as he squeezed Jack's hand. "We've got the funeral to get through tomorrow, then we'll work out what to do about this psycho."

Jack nodded, not really believing Ianto's words, but feeling grateful for his support. He was too tired to think about it any further for the moment. He decided that he'd try again tomorrow to convince Ianto that he should leave.

He scrubbed his hand over his face and then stood up, reluctantly letting go of Ianto's hand. "I think I'll have a shower and go to bed."

"Okay if I sit here for a bit?" Ianto asked, looking up at him.

"Sure. Make yourself at home," Jack replied and with a weak attempt at a weary smile, he slowly moved off to the bedroom.

The hot shower helped Jack to relax and settle his mind somewhat, although John's impending funeral and the looming threat weighed heavily upon him. He tried to find some comfort in the fact that, at least for the moment, they were both safe, and he wasn't alone. After drying off and completing his night-time routine, he padded back into the bedroom and pulled on some clean underwear. Leaving the bedside lamp on so that Ianto wouldn't be blundering around in the dark, he slipped under the bed covers and settled against the pillows.

It was only a few minutes later when Ianto quietly entered the room. After retrieving some things from his bag, he scurried around in the bathroom for a few minutes, then turned off the bathroom light and returned to the bedroom. Jack watched as he quickly stripped down to his briefs, placed his neatly folded clothes next to his bag, and then climbed into bed. Leaning in close, Ianto kissed Jack tenderly, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

Jack enjoyed the kiss but knew he wasn't in the mood for anything more. "Ianto, I don't really feel like…" he said hesitantly.

"Me neither," Ianto said with a half-smile. "Let's just try to get some sleep."

Jack nodded. He flicked off the lamp, leaving the room bathed in a trace of moonlight from the partly open curtains. He settled down next to Ianto and rested his head on Ianto's warm shoulder. Placing his arms loosely around the other man, he found comfort in the now familiar warmth and scent.

"I'm glad you're here," Jack murmured as he closed his eyes and felt Ianto's arms wrap protectively around him.

As Jack drifted into unconsciousness, he didn't see the dark look that had transformed Ianto's features, or the glint of determined anger radiating from the depths of his blue eyes.

"Everything's going to be okay, Jack," Ianto whispered fiercely as he pressed a kiss to the top of Jack's head. "I promise."

It was several hours later when Jack woke. He turned and looked down at Ianto's relaxed face, a strange expression twisting over his features as he observed the sleeping Welshman. Then he carefully eased out of the bed and quietly dressed. Ianto cracked open his eyes, and without moving a muscle, he watched Jack's shadowy form move silently around the room. He continued to watch as Jack pulled on a long military coat he'd retrieved from the back of the wardrobe, and then eased his hands into a pair of black leather gloves. Ianto closed his eyes again as Jack glanced over at him. Turning away, Jack smiled malevolently and walked out of the room.

Ianto waited until he heard the front door close. Then he quickly climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes from the day before. He left the apartment and followed Jack out into the night.


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks to everyone for reading. Please take the time to review if you're enjoying the story. Special thanks to my excellent beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

The aroma of fresh, strong coffee pulled Jack into consciousness the following morning. He blinked several times and looked up blearily to find Ianto standing beside the bed, looking down at him. The younger man was dressed in his underwear and t-shirt from the day before. He held a streaming mug of coffee in his hand, and there was a strange, unreadable expression on his face.

"Ianto?" Jack murmured as he pulled himself into an upright position. He groaned as his head pounded and a wave of nausea swept over him.

Ianto's expression seemed to clear, and he gave Jack a gentle smile. "Morning, Jack," he replied and sat on the edge of the bed as he passed Jack the coffee.

Jack reached for the mug greedily and took a tentative sip, not wanting to burn his mouth. Humming appreciatively as the rich flavour hit his tongue, he took another sip and then placed the mug on the bedside table to cool. It was his favourite blue and white striped mug, he noticed. He shuffled forward and leaned in to pull Ianto close. Cradling the younger man's face in his hands, and stroking the pad of this thumb over lightly stubbled skin, he kissed him gently. Ianto seemed to tense for the briefest of moments, but then he relaxed into Jack's embrace and kissed him back eagerly.

"Sleep okay?" Jack asked as he reluctantly pulled away and settled back against the head of the bed.

Ianto moved further onto the bed and sat cross-legged so that he was facing Jack. "Mm-hmm. You?"

"Yeah, I think so," Jack replied hesitantly.

Ianto frowned and he looked concerned. "It's worse in the mornings isn't it?" Jack looked at him curiously, and Ianto added quickly, "I did some research on your… erm… condition."

Jack sighed. "Yeah, something to do with the fluid in the brain increasing in pressure when you're lying down," he replied. "Shame I can't sleep standing on my feet," he quipped half-heartedly.

Ianto nodded, but he didn't meet Jack's eyes. Jack saw a look of distress pass across his features. He reached for Ianto's hand and intertwined their fingers.

"This is going to be hard on you," Jack said gently. "And it's only going to get worse. It's not too late to change your mind about leaving."

Ianto shook his head firmly. He looked down at their joined hands for a moment and then met Jack's gaze. Jack felt his heart constrict as he saw moisture glistening in Ianto's eyes. It shocked him to see Ianto looking so openly vulnerable. From what Jack knew of the younger man, he always seemed to keep a tight reign over his deeper emotions.

"Don't, Jack," Ianto stated emphatically, his voice catching. "I don't care how hard it gets. I'm not leaving you."

Jack briefly considered telling Ianto that he didn't want him around. It might have been kinder in the long run, he rationalised. But it would be a bold-faced lie, and he couldn't bear the thought of the hurt and rejection he felt sure that he'd see on Ianto's face.

He knew it was incredibly selfish, but with the prospect of having someone caring at his side throughout his ordeal – someone who he enjoyed being with and cared about in return – he didn't think he could let that opportunity slip away. He'd convinced himself that he'd be alone in the final months of his life, and he'd accepted that. But the truth was, he'd thought he didn't have a choice. Things were different now. He simply wasn't strong enough, or selfless enough, to push Ianto away.

He knew that he was defeated, and he was more grateful for Ianto's commitment than he could put into words. "Okay," he said simply, giving Ianto's hand another squeeze and managing a wan smile.

They sat there in still silence for a minute or so, their hands held tightly together. Then Ianto pulled away and quickly got to his feet. He kept his face turned away from Jack as he busied himself with the contents of his overnight bag.

Jack finished his coffee while Ianto showered and got ready for the day. He left Ianto to get dressed when he took his turn in the bathroom. When he returned to the bedroom a short while later, Ianto was standing by the window, looking out into the grey, drizzly morning. The younger man presented a sombre image, dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and grey and black striped tie.

Ianto turned and smiled sadly at Jack as he pulled out his own black suit from his wardrobe, along with a white shirt and a dark grey tie. After knotting the tie and checking his image in the bathroom mirror, he loosened it a little. He didn't often wear a tie, and it felt restrictive and uncomfortable around his neck. As he readied himself and tried to keep the feeling of dread from overwhelming him, he thought of his colleagues and wondered how they were coping. He hoped that the service would give them all a measure of closure and allow them to find the strength to move forward.

A few minutes later, they were sitting at the kitchen bench, each with a slice of toast and a mug of strong tea. Jack wasn't hungry, but he was trying to make an effort. Ianto looked similarly unimpressed with the notion of eating. He'd taken a couple of bites, but settled on his tea instead. The silence was oppressive, neither of them seeming to know what to say.

Jack was almost relieved when his mobile phone started to ring. He hurried over to the coffee table where he'd left the phone the night before. Glancing at the screen, but not recognising the number, he put the handset against his ear.

"Jack Harkness," he answered.

"_Hi Jack, this is Gwen Cooper."_

Jack's heart started to pound. "Detective Cooper, have you found John's murderer?" he asked anxiously as he looked over at Ianto and saw his startled expression.

"_I'm sorry, but no, not yet… but we might have a development on the case. Can you come to the station this morning?"_

It wasn't nine AM yet, so they still had plenty of time before the funeral. "Yes, of course," Jack replied. "I'll leave right away."

"_Thanks, Jack. See you soon."_

Jack disconnected the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. He walked back over to where Ianto was sitting and watching him expectantly.

"She says there's been a development with John's case," Jack explained, while wondering what it could be. "I need to go to police station to talk to her."

"Could be some good news?" Ianto suggested cautiously.

"Maybe," Jack allowed, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.

Ianto stood up and rested his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Come on then, let's go."

[=====]

Jack once again found himself waiting anxiously at the police station. Except this time, he had Ianto sitting resolutely at his side. They had only been waiting for a couple of minutes when Gwen appeared and walked towards them.

"Hi, Jack. Thanks for coming in so quickly." She turned to Ianto, looking surprised to see him. "Nice to see you again, Ianto."

Ianto smiled politely. "Good morning, Detective."

Gwen was looking at them both curiously. "We have John's service this morning," Jack said quietly as an explanation for their austere attire.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I should have realised," Gwen replied quickly, looking at them in an overly sympathetic way that set Jack on edge.

They stood looking at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then Gwen ushered them down the corridor and around through the office area to her desk. As Jack sat down, he tried not to think about the last time he'd been sitting in that same chair. It seemed incomprehensible that all of this had begun a mere five days ago. He briefly looked over to where Ianto was sitting next to him and was rewarded with a tight by reassuring smile.

"A body was found washed up on the beach at Porthcawl this morning," Gwen began to explain as she looked at them intently. "We've identified the body as belonging to a man named John Hart. It appears that he was strangled and then dumped in the sea."

Jack looked at Gwen in confusion. He'd never heard that name before. "What does this have to do with John Smith?"

"Hart worked as a bartender at the Buffalo bar. The same bar where Mr. Smith's body was found. And apparently Hart was working last Sunday night."

Jack suddenly felt a knot twisting in his stomach. "Do you think he saw who killed John?"

Gwen shrugged. "It seems like a strong possibility. Perhaps the murderer decided that Hart could identify him and needed to be silenced." Gwen picked up a photograph and passed it over to Jack. "Have you ever seen him before?"

Jack took the photograph and found himself staring down at the face of the lunatic who had threatened them the day before. The malignant, taunting glare and sculpted cheekbones were unmistakeable. Jack tensed and felt an instinctive wave of fear rush over him. He fought to keep his expression neutral as he handed back the photo.

He shook his head. "No, I've never seen him," he said evenly, hoping his voice didn't betray him.

Gwen passed the photograph to Ianto, but he simply shook his head and passed it back. She was watching them both curiously as she slipped the photo back inside a folder on the desk.

Gwen focused on Jack. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask, where were you last night?"

Jack didn't reply immediately, unsure whether to say anything about Ianto. "I was at home all night," he settled on.

"You were alone?" Gwen asked.

"No," Ianto interrupted causing Gwen to look at him in surprise. "I was with Jack. We were together all of last night."

Jack thought Gwen's eyes were going to pop out of her head they grew so wide. The sight was almost comical. "Oh, I see," she said quickly, looking from one man to the other.

"So with this Hart guy dead, you're no closer to finding John's killer?" Jack asked, trying to redirect the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"We're following several other leads," Gwen replied carefully, but to Jack's ears, she didn't sound optimistic. "And we'll be talking to everyone associated with John Hart. If the two deaths are related, that increases our chances of finding some new information."

Jack nodded diplomatically, trying not to let his frustration with the situation show in his features.

Gwen rose from her chair and gave them a polite smile. "Thanks again for coming in. I won't keep you any longer."

[=====]

Jack's thoughts were in turmoil as they left the police station and climbed back into his car. He knew he should have been feeling far more relieved that this Hart character was no longer a threat. However, he couldn't help but think that the man might have been the only chance of finding John's killer. That was assuming he had been telling the truth about what he'd seen, which Jack had to admit was probably unlikely.

"That was him, wasn't it?" Ianto asked as he turned in the passenger seat to look at Jack. "This John Hart was the man who attacked you yesterday?"

"Yeah, that was him," Jack acknowledged as he stared out through the rain-spotted windscreen and into the cloudy sky.

"Well at least the sick bastard can't try to hurt us now. That's good news."

Jack sighed. "It's great news. It's just that he might have been the only person who saw something that night. Now we'll never know. And meanwhile, John's killer is still out there somewhere."

"That's true," Ianto conceded. "All we can do now is hope something else turns up."

"It seems less likely with each passing day though," Jack said wearily, but he wasn't ready to concede that they might never learn the identity of John's killer. "It's a hell of a coincidence though," he continued a moment later. "Hart turns up out of nowhere. He tries to blackmail me, claiming to have seen who killed John, and now he's dead too."

Ianto's brow furrowed. "But we don't know how many other people he might have tried to blackmail," he reasoned. "For all we know, there's a long list of people who wanted him dead. His death could have nothing to do with John or the night he was killed."

"Yeah," Jack agreed reluctantly, but knowing that Ianto was right. "Do you think I'm being paranoid?" he asked worriedly.

"No, Jack. Not at all," Ianto replied quickly, his tone reassuringly firm. "There are just too many unknowns."

Jack nodded in agreement. It was all just wild speculation for the moment. He turned and smiled at Ianto. It felt good to have someone to talk to who supported him, listened attentively to anything he had to say, and offered reasoned, intelligent responses. He was deeply appreciative of Ianto's companionship, and he felt immeasurably relieved that the younger man was no longer in danger. It was one less thing for him to worry about, and he needed to be grateful for that, regardless of the puzzling and disturbing circumstances.

With a deep breath, Jack started the car, drove out of the car park and into the street, merging into the bustling Saturday morning traffic. He just hoped that he'd be able to get through the rest of the day without completely falling apart.


	20. Chapter 20

A quick update... I've completed writing this story apart from editing of the final chapters. I'll be continuing to update regularly until it's all posted. There will be 31 chapters in total and the final length is around 86,000 words. I'm not sure how that happened - it was meant to be about half that long!

Thanks again to everyone for reading. Please take the time to review if you're enjoying the story. And special thanks as always to my amazing beta Prothrombintime.

The poem reproduced here is "And Death Shall Have No Dominion" by Dylan Thomas. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

It was a just on ten-thirty when Jack pulled his car up to the parking area of the funeral home. Turning off the engine, he slumped back into his seat and let out a shaky breath as he tried to gather his resolve. Jack had always thought of himself as a man with a reasonable degree of emotional fortitude, but with everything that had occurred over the last few weeks, he felt like the strength he'd once possessed had been systematically broken down piece by piece. Each layer of his resilience was being stripped away until there would be nothing left except for an excruciating, gaping wound in his soul.

A warm, tentative hand found his, and their fingers slotted together effortlessly. Jack squeezed Ianto's hand tightly, finding reassurance in the simple, but intimate gesture.

He turned and stared into the blue depths of Ianto's eyes. He could plainly see the deep sorrow in the younger man's features, but strength and affection were abundantly present too. Without breaking eye contact, Ianto brought their joined hands up to his face, and pressed a soft kiss against Jack's palm. His thumb rubbed gently over the soft skin on the inside of Jack's wrist as his warm breath ghosted over their fingers.

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the sensation. He wondered how he would have survived the last week without Ianto's presence. Perhaps Tosh had been right, he considered, no matter how fanciful it seemed. Maybe some inexplicable force had dropped Ianto into his life at the precise moment when he'd needed someone – a friend, confidante, and lover – more than he'd ever needed anyone.

He opened his eyes, and they locked again with the younger man's. "I'm so glad you're here," he murmured in little more than a whisper, moving his hand to cradle Ianto's cheek, and stroking his thumb over the soft, smooth skin.

"Me too," Ianto replied quietly, his thumb still moving slowly over Jack's wrist.

With a sigh, Jack reluctantly lowered his hand, giving one last squeeze before gently releasing his grip.

They climbed out of the car and made their way around to the front entrance of the large period building. It seemed to be quite old, probably Victorian, but it had been modernised sympathetically. It almost looked like it had been lifted out of a bygone era. Without doubt, it had a long and varied history. Jack was sure that John would have liked it.

Jack waited outside while Ianto went in to check that everything was ready. He returned a few minutes later, accompanied by Rhys. The undertaker shook Jack's hand in greeting and assured him they were ready to begin once everyone had arrived. Jack nodded absently, and the stout Welshman returned inside, seeming to realise that he wasn't needed for the moment.

Jack stared out across the neat lawns and well-tended garden, and up to the sky where dark rolling clouds were scattered across the horizon. He was relieved that it wasn't a clear, sunny day, no matter how unlikely an occurrence that was. It would have felt fundamentally wrong if it had been anything other than gloomy and overcast. It would have been a sign of disrespect; a reminder that life continues to go on. It hadn't gone on for John, and it wasn't going to continue on for Jack for much longer either. Just for this single day, he wanted the world to show John the reverence that he deserved.

"I hope it doesn't rain again," he murmured absently as he continued to stare out over the world, lost in his morbid thoughts.

Ianto stood silently at his side, but Jack felt the briefest of touches as the younger man's fingers trailed over the back of his hand. It was enough to remind Jack that he wasn't alone. His thoughts flickered back to the afternoon in his apartment, a mere four days ago. Ianto had assured him that he wouldn't be alone. It had seemed strange at the time, and he'd been surprised that Ianto's words and tone had been so sincere and heartfelt. He hadn't realised how much those words had meant, and how much they would come to mean to him over the days that followed.

A minute or so later, a car pulled into the driveway and continued through to the parking area. As Jack had expected, it was Toshiko and Owen. Jack pulled himself up to his full height and squared his shoulders. He hoped that if he was able to project a sense of calm, stoicism and acceptance outwardly, perhaps it might help to banish the despair and deep sense of dread he felt inside. Turning to Ianto, Jack's eyes met with the younger man's, and Jack found the measure of reassurance he needed. He was determined to be strong for his friends, for himself, and for Ianto.

Stepping forward to meet Tosh and Owen as they approached, Jack pulled each of them into a hug, much to Owen's chagrin. He introduced his friends to Ianto, and the Welshman greeted them politely and shook their hands. Jack couldn't help but notice that Owen was observing Ianto with suspicion, while Tosh seemed much more accepting. He didn't doubt that Tosh was appraising Ianto carefully, especially after their recent conversation and his admission that he and Ianto had become involved. It was just that Tosh was far subtler than the cynical and distrusting Londoner.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the rest of their colleagues arrived, along with various other people who had come to pay their respects. Some of them Jack recognised or knew from his and John's university days. The rest he assumed were acquaintances that John had acquired during the time between university and when they'd started work on the simulation project. Jack doubted that John had kept in contact with most, if any, of them. Since embarking on their project, John had been very insular with the exception of Jack and to a slightly lesser extent, the rest of the team.

Jack introduced Ianto to the rest of their team. Then he moved off to greet each of the other arrivals, accepting words of remorse, and attempting brief, but polite conversation. He felt like he was on auto-pilot, just doing what had to be done, retaining his composure by sheer force of will, while his mind longed to be anywhere else. As much as he wanted John's life to be honoured and revered, a large part of him just wanted the day to be over.

He took a moment to glance over at Ianto and saw that the younger man was talking quietly with Tosh. They stood surrounded by the rest of the team, all of them huddled together, and talking amongst themselves. He hoped that Ianto would make friends with his colleagues. He could imagine Tosh and Ianto becoming firm friends, and he hoped that, in time, Owen and the others would also learn to appreciate the remarkable young man. At least then Ianto wouldn't be on his own when they eventually returned for Jack's farewell.

Finally the time came, and they all moved inside and through to the room where the service was being held. The room was large and elongated, with rows of cushioned, wooden chairs down both sides of a central aisle. At the end of the room, John's casket rested, surrounded by a tasteful display of white carnations and large glowing candles. The casket was closed as Jack had requested. He'd had to see John in death, but he didn't want anyone else to have to witness that. He wanted all of them to remember John as he'd been when he was alive.

Jack and Ianto led the way into the room, with Tosh and Owen following behind them. The four of them took their seats in the front row of chairs on the left-hand side of the room, closest to the podium. Jack sat in the second chair from the aisle, with Ianto at his right, Tosh at his left, and Owen at the other end, next to Tosh.

The first part of the service was mercifully brief. The words sounded distant and hollow in Jack's ears as he stared at the casket containing the lifeless body of his friend. It all felt surreal and dream-like, almost as though he were an impassionate observer of someone else's life. He wondered what John would have thought of it all, half-suspecting that his friend would have been almost amused. He could imagine John gently admonishing him with a reminder that life was for the living. John had always been pragmatic about life and death, understanding the need to accept and move forward. John hadn't been a man to dwell on the past and what might have been. Remembering John's final message, Jack knew that after today, he needed to try to do the same.

Feeling Ianto's hand slip into his and squeeze gently, Jack looked up and realised that it was his turn to speak. He met Ianto's eyes for a moment and saw the compassion and concern radiating from the striking blue depths. He stood up, releasing Ianto's hand, and moved slowly to the lectern. He'd tried to write down what he was going to say, but when he'd read it back, the words had seemed too inadequate and detached. In the end, he'd realised that no-one was expecting a perfectly written and edited eulogy, and that he didn't want to give one. Instead, he'd decided to simply try to speak from the heart.

He took a moment to look down at the faces of his friends and of the other people whose lives had in some way been touched by John's. Taking a deep steadying breath, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

He spoke of John's infectious enthusiasm, his relentless pursuit of knowledge, his kindness and humour, his eccentricities, and his deep sense of justice and honour.

"John was a great man," Jack continued after pausing for a moment, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "A strongly driven, yet deeply compassionate man. He was also one of the greatest minds of our time. Most of all, I'm proud to say that he was my cherished friend. He was a friend and inspiration to many of us here today. John's contribution to the world will not be forgotten. He'll live on in our hearts and memories for the rest of our lives, and hopefully, well beyond."

"Thank you all for being here today. Thank you for honouring John's life," Jack concluded, as his voice began to break.

Bowing his head, Jack moved away and returned to his seat. Wiping roughly at his eyes, he found Ianto's hand and grabbed it tightly. "That was beautiful, Jack," Ianto murmured to him, squeezing his hand in return.

Ianto was introduced next. The Welshman stood and gracefully made his way to the podium. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, and then he began his recital. Jack pressed his eyes closed as Ianto's rich, deep voice filled the air. The younger man's distinct accent, now so familiar and comforting, resonated deep within Jack's soul, and softened the roughest edges of his desolate, fractured mind.

"Dead men naked they shall be one… With the man in the wind and the west moon… When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone… They shall have stars at elbow and foot… Though they go mad they shall be sane… Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again… Though lovers be lost love shall not… And death shall have no dominion."

Jack opened his eyes again and continued to listen intently as he watched the younger man. Ianto's eyes were lowered as he continued to enunciate the obviously well remembered verses.

"Under the windings of the sea… They lying long shall not die windily… Twisting on racks when sinews give way… Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break… Faith in their hands shall snap in two… And the unicorn evils run them through… Split all ends up they shan't crack… And death shall have no dominion."

Ianto paused as he softly cleared his throat and then took a deep breath.

"No more may gulls cry at their ears… Or waves break loud on the seashores… Where blew a flower may a flower no more… Lift its head to the blows of the rain… Though they be mad and dead as nails… Heads of the characters hammer through daisies… Break in the sun till the sun breaks down…"

With a final pause, Ianto lifted his eyes to meet with Jack's. "And death shall have no dominion."

Jack blinked as he tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. With a humble nod to the gathering, Ianto calmly made his way back to his seat next to Jack and sat down again.

"Thank you," Jack whispered into Ianto's ear. "John would have loved that."

He felt the twinge of a melancholy smile play over his lips at the thought. One of John's many surprising eccentricities had been his fondness for Welsh poetry. Ianto's selection of the Dylan Thomas poem had been perfect, and Jack briefly wondered if Ianto had known his uncle better than he'd led Jack to believe.

Ianto gave Jack a gentle nod in reply, his features seeming to relax a little from the tightness they'd been carrying all morning.

With the service concluded, everyone began to depart from the room. Jack played his part and exchanged some further quietly spoken words with several of John's past acquaintances. Once everyone else was gone, he approached John's casket and stood there for several minutes. He remained still as he journeyed through his vast collection of memories of his friend, paying him a final, silent tribute. He was aware that Ianto was standing at the other end of the room by the doorway, watching hesitantly, not intruding on his moment, but also not quite willing to leave him on his own either. Jack pulled a single white carnation from the nearest arrangement, choosing the most perfect one that he could find, and then placed it gently on the top of casket.

"Farewell, my friend," he murmured, failing to keep his emotions from forming a lump in his throat, and making his voice uneven. "Perhaps we'll see each other again soon."

Wiping away a tear, Jack turned and joined Ianto at the entrance. They made their way outside and waited as the casket was transferred into a gleaming black hearse. Ianto took the driver's seat of Jack's car, and they followed along behind the austere vehicle, as the rest of the attendees trailed in their own cars.

The journey to the cemetery was brief despite their unhurried, respectful pace. Jack and Ianto stood beside their parked car, waiting for the rest of the mourners to arrive. Jack had to admit that it was a beautiful location, with sweeping views over the fervent, green, Welsh countryside. He decided that he'd like to be buried here when his time came. The idea that he might soon be joining John to rest in this stunning place strangely made it all a little more bearable. He turned to look at Ianto and wondered what he was thinking about. The younger man's stoic mask was firmly in place, but Jack could see that he was struggling, and that he looked a bit lost and overwhelmed. Jack felt his heart twist with a mixture of compassion and regret.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, moving to stand beside the other man and immediately realising how absurd the words were, but he didn't know what else to say.

Ianto simply nodded in reply as he stared out across the seemingly endless rows of headstones.

Once the other cars had arrived, the small group made their way over to the hearse where Rhys and one of his staff were waiting. The six of them got into position and lifted John's coffin onto their shoulders. Jack and Ianto were at the front, Owen and Alex in the centre, and Mike and Tommy at the rear. Tosh, Beth, Suzie and Charlie followed along behind.

They watched in silence as John was lowered into his final resting place. Jack felt Ianto's arm slide gently under his suit jacket and settle firmly around his waist. He leaned slightly into the embrace, accepting the offered comfort gratefully. Looking across at the others, Jack saw Tosh huddled against Owen, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

There was a dull thud, and then, just like that, it was all over. Unable to bear any more, and having already said his final goodbye, Jack turned away. Ianto nodded to the others and then moved to Jack's side again. They walked slowly back towards the parking area.

They arrived back at the car, and Jack was surprised when Ianto pulled him into a tight embrace. They clung unashamedly to each other for a long moment before reluctantly pulling apart. Ianto held Jack's hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they looked out over the landscape one last time.

"Can you drop me off at the apartment?" Ianto said after they'd climbed back into Jack's car. "At John's… at my apartment, I mean."

Jack looked at Ianto in surprise. Tosh had invited all of the team over to her flat for drinks, and Jack had hoped that the informal setting would give Ianto a chance to get to know the others a little better. "You don't want to come with me to Toshiko's?"

"I do, but…" Ianto replied hesitantly, not quite meeting Jack's eyes. "I just need some time alone for a bit. If that's okay?"

"Of course it is," Jack agreed quickly, not wanting Ianto to feel pressured. But at the same time, he didn't like the idea of the younger man being on his own. "Or we can just go back to my place instead if you want," he offered.

Ianto shook his head and gave Jack a weary half-smile. "Thanks, but you should go. Be with your friends."

Jack felt a little guilty. He wasn't sure that he'd returned the emotional support that the younger man had given to him so selflessly over the course of their, thus far, brief relationship. "I want to be with you too," he said quietly.

"It's okay," Ianto said, his eyes softening as they met with Jack's. "They need you, and they'll be other times for me to get to know them."

Jack decided not to push the issue. He could understand Ianto not feeling up to being surrounded by a group of strangers. "You can come over tonight if you like?" he suggested instead, trying to sound casual, but hoping that Ianto would agree. "Doesn't matter what time, just whenever you're ready. Besides, your things are still there."

Ianto seemed to think about that for a moment, but then he nodded. "All right. Thanks, Jack."

Jack drove them back to the bay area and pulled up outside Ianto's building. Ianto gave him another tired smile, and with a promise to see him later that evening, he exited the car and quickly disappeared inside the building.

Jack breathed out a sigh, and turning the car around, he headed in the direction of Toshiko's flat. A short while later, he was with his team, a cup of coffee in his hand, listening to Owen regale them with one of his many stories about John. It felt nice to be with his closest friends and he even found himself chuckling a little as he recalled some of their happier times together. It was how John would have wanted them to remember him.

"Jack?" Tosh's voice broke into his thoughts.

Jack smiled at his friend. "Thanks for this, Tosh," he said softly, nodding towards the others.

Tosh gestured for Jack to follow her into the kitchen, away from where everyone else was grouped together in the living area. "It was a lovely service," she said, looking over at their friends, a fond expression warming her features. "I think he would have liked it."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "I think so too."

Tosh looked up at Jack. "It was good to meet Ianto today," she said, her expression curious. "He seems very nice. It's obvious how much he cares about you."

"I care about him too," Jack replied, feeling the familiar stab of guilt mixed with regret. "I like being with him." He tried to muster a cheeky grin. "Besides, he's not exactly hard on the eyes."

Tosh gave him an exasperated look. "He's gorgeous. The two of you look really good together." She looked at him knowingly. "You're completely smitten, aren't you?"

"Maybe just a bit," Jack admitted wryly, trying to hide his amusement at his friend's perceptiveness. "He reminds me a lot of you, actually."

"I hope that was a compliment," Tosh said in a tone of mock warning.

"Absolutely," Jack assured her. He had no doubt that Tosh knew exactly how much he adored her. "I'm hoping the two of you will be friends. He doesn't really seem to have anyone else."

Tosh patted his arm and smiled. "I'm sure we will be. And I'll make sure Owen gives him a chance too."

Jack smiled, feeling a measure of relief. He knew he could count on Toshiko to look after Ianto once he was gone. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Thanks, Tosh."


	21. Chapter 21

Thanks for reading, and please review if you're still enjoying the story. Special thanks to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

Jack spent the rest of the afternoon and part of the early evening at Toshiko's flat with his friends. He'd expected it to be more awkward than it was, and in the end, it had been good to share their memories of John. They'd been able to remember all the things they'd loved about him, and the positive impact he'd had on their lives.

The pain of losing him was still profound – a deep wound that hadn't yet begun to heal. However, Jack felt a renewed sense of determination to try to make the most of the time he had left. It had been John's wish that he find some genuine happiness, and as Toshiko had recently reminded him, it was the best way that they could honour John's life. Jack couldn't allow himself the luxury of dwelling on things that he had no control over. He didn't have much time left. He still needed answers, and he still wanted justice, but deep down, he knew he had to accept that there was no guarantee he would find either. He couldn't let those needs completely overshadow the brief remainder of his life.

Tosh had tried to convince Jack to stay and have dinner with them, but he'd politely declined, simply stating that he needed some time alone. It hadn't exactly been a lie, but he wanted to make sure that he was home in case Ianto called or arrived on his doorstep.

He'd been a little worried about the younger man since they'd parted company earlier that afternoon. The depth of his feelings for the enigmatic Welshman continued to astonish and confuse him. He couldn't deny that he was becoming more enamoured with each passing moment. Plus, he had reached a decision. He was going to tell Ianto the truth about everything.

It was a little after seven o'clock when Jack arrived back at his apartment. He quickly stripped off his suit and pulled off the tie hanging loosely at his neck, along with his shirt. Adding the shirt and socks to the growing pile of dirty clothing in his washing basket, he hastily put the suit away, feeling relieved when it was finally out of sight. He didn't think he'd ever want to wear it again. Digging out his favourite pair of faded, well-worn jeans, he pulled them on, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric as it settled against his skin. He tugged on an old blue t-shirt and, leaving his feet bare, he retreated to the kitchen.

Deciding to indulge in a drink, Jack downed some painkillers, poured himself a measure of scotch, and collapsed onto the sofa. Other than one glass of wine, he'd stuck with tea and coffee at Toshiko's, since he'd had to drive himself home.

His thoughts drifted as he sipped at his drink. The despair of the arduous day mixed with his confusion over John Hart and his bizarre threat, along with his need to enter the simulation again and find the mysterious, hidden message. Feeling emotionally drained, he allowed his eyes to close, and he settled into a light doze.

Jack woke with a start to the sound of the apartment's intercom buzzing insistently. Glancing blearily down at his phone where he'd left it earlier on the coffee table, he noticed that almost two hours had passed. Shaking off his grogginess, he pulled himself to his feet and padded down the hallway.

It was only a minute or so later that Ianto was standing on the doorstep, a large pizza box in one arm, and a six-pack of beer in the other.

"Hi, Jack," Ianto offered in greeting with a warm but weary smile.

Jack smiled back at the younger man, feeling the now familiar warm rush sweep over him. Ianto had changed into casual clothes; his leather jacket accompanied by a fitted black t-shirt and his usual figure hugging jeans. He looked stunning, and for a fleeting moment, Jack wondered why Ianto was wasting his time with him. The Welshman deserved to be with someone who could offer him the possibility of a future... the chance to have a lifetime with someone he loved. And it wasn't as if Ianto would have any trouble finding other options. Ianto was young and eligible, with qualities in abundance that could easily attract any number of highly desirable men or women.

"Ianto, hey. Come in," Jack replied, forcefully pushing aside his doubts and closing the door behind the other man.

"Thought you might be hungry," Ianto offered as he passed the items to Jack and removed his jacket and shoes. "It's meat feast. Hope that's okay?"

The tantalising aroma hit Jack's nostrils, and he realised that he hadn't attempted to eat anything since breakfast. "I hadn't really thought about dinner," he admitted. "But this smells delicious. My favourite too."

They made their way into the kitchen, and Jack put the food and beer down on the bench-top. He turned to Ianto and with scarcely a thought, he pulled him in close and kissed him firmly on the mouth. The simple gesture felt surprisingly natural and effortless. He'd almost forgotten how nice it was to have someone to care about, to enjoy being with, and to openly share affection.

"You okay?" he asked Ianto as he pulled back, settling his hands on the other man's hips and looking at him closely.

"Yeah," Ianto replied with a hint of a smile that didn't quite seem to reach his eyes. His hand was settled on Jack's upper arm, and he gave a gentle squeeze. "I'm fine, Jack. Sorry about earlier."

"Nothing to apologise for," Jack reassured him and dropped his hands away.

Suddenly feeling a bit awkward, Jack moved away and busied himself with fetching plates from a nearby cupboard. Ianto put the beers in the refrigerator, leaving two of them out on the bench.

"By the way, you've won Toshiko over with that irresistible Welsh charm of yours," Jack teased as he pulled out two plates and dug out some paper napkins. He wanted to lighten the mood, and he hoped that Ianto wouldn't want to talk about the funeral. He just needed to forget about everything for a few hours. "She thinks you're gorgeous," he added lightly.

Ianto raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Does she? Well, Toshiko seems to be a woman with impeccable taste. Not to mention the fact that she's beautiful and obviously brilliant."

Jack looked up at Ianto abruptly, and noticing his cheeky smirk, he couldn't help but smile. "Oh, she's a genius all right, and she's stunning," he agreed easily. "But don't go getting any ideas. She's taken." He paused and stared at Ianto. "And so are you."

Ianto's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and Jack inwardly cringed as soon as the words had left his mouth. He wondered why in the world he'd blurted that out. He knew that he didn't have any claim over Ianto, but the idea of him being with anyone else filled Jack with a sense of irrational possessiveness.

"Am I?" Ianto asked innocently, moving closer to Jack, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Um, yeah. You are," Jack finished, trying to keep his tone light to hide his insecurity. "Besides, I don't like to share."

"Me neither," Ianto responded, suddenly serious again. He leaned in closer and gave Jack a brief but tender kiss. "Come on, let's eat," he added with a soft smile.

They moved the pizza and drinks over to the coffee table and sat down next to each other. Ianto was apparently as ravenous as Jack, and the pizza was finished off in short order, along with their first round of beers. Jack went to the refrigerator and extracted two more bottles, passing one to Ianto as he sat down again.

He took a steadying breath and gulped down a mouthful of beer from his fresh bottle before turning to look at the other man anxiously. "Ianto, there's something else I need to tell you... it's about John."

Ianto lowered his bottle from his lips and looked at him in surprise. "What is it, Jack?"

Jack sighed heavily and decided just to start from the beginning. He told Ianto about the discussion he'd had with John on the night of their celebration, and how he was meant to have been the first to test the simulation.

As he finished that part of the story, he saw the pain in Ianto's eyes. The younger man was apparently distressed that Jack had been so willing to sacrifice himself. Ianto didn't speak though, and Jack looked away. He wasn't used to having someone care about him like that, and despite Jack's doubts, it was clear that Ianto did care deeply about his welfare. After a moment, he forced himself to continue on, explaining what he'd discovered about John's activities while he'd had been away at the holiday cottage.

"And there were no problems? No side-effects?" Ianto asked, looking both astonished and curious.

"Owen said he checked him out each time afterwards, and apparently he was fine," Jack replied. "John took a hell of a risk though. I was furious when I found out what he'd done."

Ianto nodded. "But there's more isn't there?"

"Yeah," Jack admitted. "I'm not sure if I should tell you the rest. John told me not to tell anyone, but I think you deserve to know." He paused and rubbed at the back of his neck, desperately hoping that he wasn't making a terrible mistake. "But this has to stay between the two of us, okay? The others can't know."

Ianto continued to look at him curiously. "Yes, of course."

"John left me a video message," Jack stated. "He recorded it the night before he was killed."

Ianto's eyes opened wider, but he continued to listen as Jack recounted the contents of John's message as near to word-for-word as he could manage to recollect.

"And you have no idea what it means... what he discovered?" Ianto asked after he'd finished.

Jack shook his head. "Not a clue. It doesn't make sense. None of it does."

Ianto looked thoughtful but didn't say anything further. Jack rested his hand on Ianto's knee. "You're not going to like the next bit."

Ianto frowned. "You went into the simulation, didn't you?"

Jack nodded, realising that he shouldn't have been surprised by Ianto's perceptiveness. "Yeah. I had to see it for myself, and I needed to find the message he left for me."

"How many times?" Ianto asked evenly.

"Just once so far," Jack confirmed.

Ianto nodded. "Did you find it?"

"No," Jack admitted with a weary sigh. "I kept running into dead ends. Then my time was up." He paused and looked at Ianto cautiously. "I'm going back in," he said quietly, feeling an acute sense of dread at the thought. "I need to find that message."

"Jack, no!" Ianto exclaimed, sitting up straight and looking alarmed. "It's too dangerous. Especially with your condition."

Jack sighed. "I have to. There's no other way."

Ianto turned away and didn't say anything for a minute or so. "When?" he finally said before looking back at Jack with obvious fear in his eyes.

"Tomorrow night," Jack stated. "That's assuming I can convince Owen to help me again."

Ianto didn't immediately reply. "You could do what John suggested," he said quietly, looking down at his hands and not meeting Jack's eyes. "Leave it alone and walk away."

Jack took another mouthful of beer. "I know. And believe me, I've thought about it more than once. But I need answers. I need to know what John discovered. I'm not going to have any peace until I do." He shook his head wearily. "I suppose I just need to know that his death wasn't for nothing. That there was a reason, that it wasn't just some random event."

"And if you don't find anything?" Ianto argued. "If there aren't any answers?"

"There has to be something," Jack insisted. Although a large part of him wanted to simply let it all go, he needed to see it through to the end. "John went to a hell of a lot of trouble to hide that message and make sure I would be the only one to find it."

Ianto eventually nodded in agreement, but he remained silent.

Jack sighed again. "You think it's a bad idea, don't you?"

"No, I understand," Ianto replied hesitantly after a moment, looking into Jack's eyes and appearing to be genuinely afraid. "It's just that... I want you to be safe. And from what you've said, John wanted that too. He told you to walk away." Ianto paused and breathed out heavily as he fixed Jack with a piercing stare. "We don't know what could happen to you. You said so yourself, Jack. It's an enormous risk. You can't go plugging yourself into that machine without expecting there to be consequences."

Jack shrugged and tried to appear unconcerned. Ianto was right, but it wouldn't do either of them any good to focus on the risks. "John was all right, and I'll be okay too." Jack took Ianto's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's going to be fine, Ianto."

Jack watched as Ianto stared down at their joined hands, a deep frown marring his handsome features. "I suppose," he agreed with obvious reluctance. After a moment he looked at up Jack. "Can I come with you? To the Hub tomorrow night, I mean."

Jack sighed and tightened his hold on the Welshman's hand. "Ianto, I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

"I want to see where John worked all this time," Ianto said insistently. "See what you've all achieved. Besides, it sounds like you could use some moral support."

"True," Jack admitted, and he knew that he couldn't refuse Ianto's request to see the results of John's work. He sighed heavily. "All right. I'll speak to Owen in the morning, and you can come with me to the Hub."

Ianto looked relieved. "Thank you."

Jack nodded and drained his bottle, put it down on the table, and then leaned back into the sofa. He kept a tight hold of Ianto's hand, drawing strength and comfort from the contact. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to consider Ianto's reaction to everything he'd just told him. The younger man had taken it surprisingly well, all things considered. Jack had half expected him to be furious, but if Ianto was angry, he was managing to hide it exceedingly well.

A soft clink of glass against glass reached his ears, and he felt Ianto shift on the sofa and move closer to him. A moment later, warm lips pressed against his own, and then an insistent tongue pushed into his mouth. Jack returned the kiss eagerly as Ianto's arms wrapped around him. The sheer intensity of the kiss surprised him, and the mixture of passion and desperation coming from Ianto was almost overwhelming.

Keeping his eyes closed, Jack lost himself as he concentrated on the sensation of intense arousal surging through his body. Ianto continued to kiss him fiercely, and it wasn't long before he was hard and straining against his jeans. Ianto continued to amaze him by seeming to know exactly what he needed. Jack reached up and cradled Ianto's face in his hands, savouring the feel of the younger man's soft, stubbled skin against his fingertips.

"Are you staying tonight?" Jack murmured as he opened his eyes and they finally pulled apart, both breathing rapidly.

"Is that okay?" Ianto asked quietly in return.

Jack wrapped his hand around the back of Ianto's neck and pulled him back in for a long, indulgent kiss. "Does that answer your question?" he said as he smiled against Ianto's mouth.

"Hmm... I think so," Ianto replied with a seductive grin as they broke apart again. "I might need some further reassurance though," he added teasingly.

Jack looked into Ianto's eyes and saw the lust burning in the darkened, stormy depths. A shiver of anticipation coursed down his spine. He couldn't wait to find out what new pleasures they would enjoy together as the evening continued.


	22. Chapter 22

Not much plot development here as expected, but hopefully it's not too awful. Thanks to everyone for giving this story a go, and please review if you're enjoying it. Special thanks as always to my wonderful beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 22<strong>

With a flurry of movement, Jack found himself lying flat on his back along the length of the sofa. Ianto was on top of him, having skilfully divested Jack of his t-shirt. They moved against each other, their mouths colliding in another fiercely passionate kiss as their hands explored eagerly. Jack was almost painfully hard, and he could feel Ianto's similar state of arousal pressing against his hip.

They broke apart with a gasp. Pushing himself upright, Ianto kneeled between Jack's legs and slowly peeled off his t-shirt, his eyes locked on Jack. He tossed the t-shirt to the floor as Jack reached up and trailed his hands over Ianto's bare chest, revelling in the sensation of thick, silky hair against his skin. Jack stared up at Ianto with deep admiration, utterly captivated as he traced his eyes over the Welshman's beautiful, lean body. An intense swell of desire burned within him. He loved how tactile and responsive Ianto was, and the younger man moaned appreciatively as Jack slowly rubbed his fingers over the soft, sensitive flesh of Ianto's nipples before playfully squeezing them.

A shudder rippled through Ianto, and he pushed forward against Jack's roaming hands. Jack couldn't imagine ever being able to get enough of this. Moving his hands downwards, he teased his fingers through the trail of dark hair until he reached Ianto's waistband. He slowly unbuckled Ianto's belt, popped open the button of his jeans, and then lowered the zip.

Ianto had the same idea and made short work of unfastening Jack's jeans and easing them down so that they were sitting low on his hips. Pressing back down against Jack, Ianto brought their bare torsos together as they kissed deeply again.

Jack stroked his fingers down the length of Ianto's spine as the kiss continued. He took a moment to indulge in teasing the patch of soft hair at the base of Ianto's back before slipping his hands beneath the younger man's jeans and underwear. He grasped and slowly massaged the warm mounds of flesh below. Pushing his hands deeper, he rubbed a finger over the soft skin of Ianto's perineum and then traced upwards and stroked gently over the tight ring of his entrance. Ianto thrust his hips in response, gasping with pleasure against Jack's lips.

Eventually they broke apart, and Ianto tugged off Jack's jeans, throwing them to the floor where they were quickly joined by Jack's underwear. Jack watched intently as Ianto disposed of his socks, and then hastily yanked off the rest of his clothing, adding them to the pile. He smiled down at Jack. Then he kissed his way up Jack's thigh, over his stomach, and across his chest, teasing Jack's nipples sensuously with his tongue. Jack could only manage to make incoherent sounds of pleasure as he felt himself coming undone. Ianto kissed along Jack's jawline before claiming his mouth again, thrusting his tongue between Jack's parted lips.

Their hands continued enthusiastically exploring each other's bodies – stroking, pinching and massaging every square inch of flesh within reach. They were both achingly hard as they rubbed against one another; their leaking erections sandwiched tightly between their bodies. Jack knew that he couldn't last much longer. He was too far gone and he didn't want to slow down. The friction and heat of Ianto's body against his own overwhelmed his senses. He couldn't believe how good it felt to be with Ianto like this – to lose himself so completely with this remarkable and passionate man. Everything else just seemed to drift away until nothing mattered except the two of them and the pleasure they were giving each other.

Pushing his tongue deeper into Ianto's mouth, Jack moaned deeply, and with one final thrust upwards, he climaxed, shooting his release over their bodies with a degree of force that astonished him. He continued kissing Ianto as his orgasm coursed through him. Ianto followed barely a moment later with a breathless, incoherent groan, adding his release to Jack's, and coating their torsos.

Ianto collapsed on top of Jack, his chest heaving as he panted out short, stuttering breaths. Gasping for breath himself, Jack wrapped his arms around the younger man. He held Ianto close to his chest as he stroked his hands gently down the length of his spine. Ianto trembled against him as he rode out the aftershocks of his climax.

"Wow," Jack gasped as his breathing finally began to even out. He lifted his hand and trailed his fingers through Ianto's short hair, the younger man having settled his head on Jack's chest. "I… uh…" Jack tried, cringing at his lack of coherency. "Well, that was fun," he managed a moment later.

Ianto pressed a warm kiss to the base of Jack's neck. "I've always thought the art of frottage is seriously underrated," he murmured.

"After that, I'd have to say I strongly agree," Jack said with a chuckle as he continued to stroke his fingers affectionately through Ianto's hair. "You're kind of kinky aren't you?" he added teasingly.

"Wouldn't want you getting bored," Ianto replied lightly, but Jack thought he could hear an underlying edge of insecurity in Ianto's tone.

It gave Jack pause for a moment. Ianto seemed so confident and self-assured, yet he was quite possibly just as screwed up in his own way as Jack. Ianto had never elaborated on the other man he'd been in a relationship with, and Jack hadn't asked. But he couldn't help wondering what had happened and how badly Ianto had been damaged as a result. Part of him didn't want to know. It was best for their relationship if they kept everything firmly in the present. He didn't think that digging up their respective pasts would do either of them any good.

"That's not possible," Jack said quietly, the sincerity clear in his voice as he wrapped his arms just a little tighter around Ianto to reassure him. "So what other things are we going to do together?"

"Hmm... there's quite a list," Ianto quipped.

"Really?" Jack said curiously. "I like the sound of that. Care to enlighten me?"

Ianto pulled himself up and looked down into Jack's eyes. He grinned at Jack mischievously. "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

Jack tilted his head up and gave Ianto a tender kiss. "Well, whatever they are... I want us to do them all."

Ianto's eyes seemed to brighten. "Yeah?"

Jack smiled as he pulled Ianto down against him again, and his head settled on Jack's shoulder. "Absolutely," Jack said firmly. "Maybe I'll start a list of my own."

Tilting his head to the side, Jack pressed a kiss to Ianto's forehead. The other man wriggled slightly before relaxing against him again. Their upper bodies were slick with their releases, but Jack didn't want to move. He felt very content having Ianto's reassuring weight and warmth resting on top of him.

They stayed that way in silence for several minutes, just holding on to each other. "I can't imagine ever getting enough of this," Jack murmured as much to himself as to the other man, giving voice to his earlier thought.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jack," Ianto reminded him as he found Jack's hand and wrapped their fingers together.

"I know… I just…" Jack breathed out a sigh as he felt the familiar sense of despair take hold again. "I want more time with you. The time I have left, it's not enough."

Ianto squeezed his hand. "We'll make the most of every moment we've got. You're right… it will never be enough, but we'll make it count."

Jack pulled Ianto into a desperate kiss as he blinked back his tears and tried to push away his morbid thoughts. He didn't want to spoil their time together with feelings of melancholy over the hopelessness of their situation. He'd promised himself to make the most of his time with Ianto, and he was determined to honour that commitment, for both their sakes.

They broke apart when the need for air became too great. Ianto reached up and rubbed away the moisture from below Jack's eyes with the pad of his thumb. "Do you want to go to bed?" he asked gently.

Jack nodded, and he looked up at Ianto anxiously. "Ianto, I..." he began, but broke off uncertainly.

"What is it, Jack?" Ianto asked as he stroked Jack's cheek. "It's okay. We can do whatever you want."

Jack took a deep breath. "I want you to take me, Ianto. I want to know what it feels like to have you inside me."

Ianto looked at him searchingly. "You're sure?"

Jack managed a wry chuckle to hide his nervousness. He knew that he wanted this. He needed to let go, and he wanted Ianto to claim him. If he was completely honest with himself, he'd wanted it from their first moment together. "It kind of feels like I'm about to lose my virginity all over again," he joked. "But, yeah, I'm sure. And I want it to be with you."

Ianto simply nodded and standing up, he reached for Jack's hand again. They walked hand-in-hand to the bedroom.

Jack threw back the bed covers and rested on his back as Ianto retrieved the supplies from the drawer of the bedside table. Then he settled beside Jack, and they kissed languidly as they stroked each other until they were both hard again.

"Okay?" Ianto asked as he looked at Jack worriedly. "If it's too much, tell me to stop and I will."

Jack nodded in reply. He was certain that he wouldn't need to tell Ianto to stop. He knew that Ianto would take good care of him.

Ianto moved to kneel between Jack's outstretched legs. He positioned a pillow under Jack's hips and then with a well-lubricated finger, he teased it lightly over the ring of muscle at Jack's entrance before slowly easing the finger inside of him. Jack gasped at the intrusion but found himself relaxing quickly as Ianto painstakingly began to prepare him.

As he eased deeper, Ianto was watching him closely, obviously looking for any sign of discomfort. "I'm fine, Ianto," Jack murmured. "Keep going."

Jack squirmed a little as Ianto added a second finger, but his arousal grew as Ianto methodically continued until he seemed to be sure that Jack was ready. The experience was nothing like Jack had expected, but he'd quickly realised that nothing was with Ianto. He supposed that he'd always assumed being with another man would be hard and rough, both taking what they wanted with little genuine intimacy or regard for the other person. But Ianto had proven from the very beginning that he was a generous and considerate sexual partner. Despite being more vulnerable than he'd probably ever been before, Jack knew that he was safe with the younger man.

Ianto lined himself up and rested his hands on Jack's hips. Their eyes locked, and Jack gasped as Ianto slowly pushed into him. Ianto paused, and as the initial sting subsided, Jack nodded for him to keep going. Ianto continued to gradually ease forward, his expression a mixture of concentration and pleasure. It wasn't long before he was fully seated inside of Jack, and he leaned down, capturing Jack's mouth in a feverish kiss. Jack moaned with the strange, but not at all unpleasant sensation of being so completely filled. He was surprised by how good it felt, and he couldn't help but be deeply touched by the care and gentleness that Ianto had shown him. He wasn't sure if he ever would have done this with anyone else. Somewhere in his mind, he registered that he should be shocked at the reality of having another man's erect cock buried inside his body, but he found that he simply didn't care. Somehow, with Ianto, it felt right. The only thing that mattered was how desperately he wanted this beautiful man in every way possible.

"Ready?" Ianto whispered against his mouth.

"Yeah," Jack replied as Ianto pulled back, trailing his hands down Jack's chest before settling them over his hips again.

Ianto pulled out slowly and then eased back in again. Jack writhed beneath him as he moved his legs up and pushed them further apart, wanting Ianto as deep as he could go. Ianto began a steady rhythm of long, deep strokes, and then adjusted his angle so that he was hitting Jack's prostrate with every thrust. The intensity of the sensation was almost too much for Jack. He tried to draw steadying breaths as Ianto continued to push deeply into him, his pace increasing slightly.

Jack reached down and began stroking himself, matching Ianto's rhythm. Staring up at Ianto, Jack tried to capture every detail, not wanting to miss anything. Ianto's expression was a perfect mixture of ecstasy and adoration. His skin was flushed, and a light sheen of sweat covered his chest where the dark hair was matted against his skin from their earlier efforts. It was the most spectacular and erotic sight that Jack had ever seen.

"Can't last much longer," Ianto gasped, his accent thick as he pushed back into Jack again. "Now, Jack."

Jack gave himself one final stroke, and then as Ianto hit his prostate, he cried out and erupted over his stomach and chest. Ianto leaned down and kissed him hungrily. With one more thrust, he drove in hard, reaching his own climax as he groaned out Jack's name.

Ianto shuddered several times before pulling out of Jack and collapsing on top of him, gasping for breath.

Jack held Ianto tight against his chest, not caring about the mess they were both in. He wiggled his lower body experimentally. There was a little soreness but he wasn't in any pain. He was surprised by how acutely he felt the sudden loss of Ianto's presence inside him. Ianto shifted against him, and their eyes met. Jack didn't hesitate to kiss him again.

"Was that okay? Did I hurt you?" Ianto asked a few moments later, looking at Jack worriedly.

"No, I'm fine," Jack reassured him. "That was so much better than I ever could have imagined," he added with a wide smile. "I didn't think it would feel so amazing."

Ianto smiled back and then moved away to toss the used condom into the small bin beside the bed. He settled against Jack's side, wrapping his arms around him and tangling their legs together. They stayed that way for several minutes, holding on to each other and sharing leisurely kisses.

"You know," Jack began thoughtfully, "I never realised I had such a good recovery time until I met you. Twenty minutes or so is pretty damn impressive for a guy my age."

"How old are you?" Ianto asked. He chuckled slightly. "I just realised I don't even know your age."

"I'm thirty-five," Jack stated. "How about you?"

"Twenty-six."

"God, that makes me feel old," Jack groaned.

Ianto grinned playfully. "I've always liked older men."

"Really?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep."

Jack looked at Ianto curiously, not sure if he was just teasing him. He could never quite tell. "Huh. Well, I suppose that makes me feel a bit better."

Ianto reached down to Jack's crotch and gave an experimental tug. "Not up for round three then?"

Jack looked down at himself forlornly, wishing that he had Ianto's youthful stamina. "You've worn me out. Maybe later though."

"I'll hold you to that," Ianto replied lightly, but Jack was sure that he was serious. "By the way, I've got an old stopwatch around somewhere," Ianto continued conversationally. "Perhaps we could perform a little experiment sometime... might be fun. Test your recovery time and see how many times I can make you come in one night."

"Jesus, Ianto... I'm not sure if I'd survive the experience," Jack moaned despite finding the thought more than a little arousing. "A stopwatch? Is this another fetish I should know about?"

"It's the button on the top," Ianto replied knowingly.

Jack's mind filled with possibilities. "Hmm. I think that definitely warrants further investigation."

"I thought you might," Ianto said with a grin. He climbed off the bed, pulling a reluctant Jack with him. "Come on, we'd better get cleaned up."

A few minutes later, after a quick shower together, they were back in bed. Giving Ianto a gentle kiss, Jack pulled him into his arms. They settled under the covers wrapped tightly around each other again.

Jack almost immediately fell into a deep sleep, the despair of the day having been temporarily banished from his thoughts. He didn't allow himself to consider what the day ahead might have in store for them.


	23. Chapter 23

Thanks to everyone for continuing to read and support this story. Please keep reviewing :-). Special thanks as always to my amazing beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 23<strong>

Jack's eyes slid open as his mind slowly drifted into consciousness. Turning his head slightly to the left, he glanced blearily at the clock on his bedside table and noted that it was just after seven-thirty.

Ianto was nestled tightly against him, still sleeping soundly. The younger man's head rested on Jack's shoulder, and his right arm was slung possessively over Jack's stomach. Jack closed his eyes again, simply enjoying the sensation of Ianto's warm skin pressed against his own. Savouring the moment, he listened intently to the rhythmic sound of the younger man's slow but steady breathing. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent stillness of the room. It was a comforting companion to the rays of early morning sunlight pushing into the room from around the edges of the window, bathing the space in a soft, shadowy glow.

Jack smiled to himself as his thoughts drifted over the events of the previous evening and earlier that morning. They'd been woken a little after five-thirty by a deep, reverberating rumble of thunder. It had punctuated the muted sound of the steady rain that had begun to fall earlier during the night. Feeling restless, Jack had risen to take some painkillers and then busied himself with making them both cups of tea.

The tea had soon been forgotten as they'd indulged in another round of intense and deeply satisfying sex. It had been another new experience for Jack. With Ianto's prompting, they'd repositioned themselves on the bed and simultaneously taken each other into their mouths. Afterwards, they'd exchanged several long and languid kisses, sharing their respective tastes. As he'd drifted contentedly back to sleep, Jack had idly wondered if Ianto had just mentally checked off another item on what seemed to be a highly comprehensive list. Ianto Jones truly was a man of vast, hidden depths. The thought had brought a smile to his lips as unconsciousness had claimed him.

Bringing his mind back to the present, Jack tried to think of the last time he'd experienced so much pleasure in such a short period of time. He wasn't sure if he ever had, especially not with such overwhelming intensity. There was something horribly ironic about that, given his current circumstances, he mused sadly.

Ianto's breathing snuffled, and he let out a slight whimper as his grip on Jack tightened. Gently grasping Ianto's hand and entwining their fingers, Jack wondered what Ianto might be dreaming about. He wondered if Ianto was dreaming about him. While he loved the fact that the outwardly reserved and stoic Welshman had such a voracious and innovative sexual appetite, he couldn't help but worry that he wouldn't be able to keep Ianto satisfied as their involvement continued.

It wasn't that Ianto had given Jack any indication that he was anything other than entirely happy with their relationship thus far, but Jack couldn't quite shake his lingering doubts. He was worried that as things became more difficult to cope with due to the progression of his illness, Ianto might decide to cut his losses and run. Jack wouldn't blame him if he did. He wasn't sure that if their roles were reversed, he wouldn't be tempted to do precisely that, no matter how deep his feelings. As soon as the thought was fully formed, Jack felt ashamed. Ianto was a better man than Jack was giving him credit for, and in his heart, Jack knew that Ianto was loyal to a fault. It was one of the few things of which he felt certain about.

With great care, Jack slowly extricated himself from the Welshman's embrace and eased himself away from the bed. Glancing down at the younger man to check that he was still sleeping comfortably, he couldn't help but smile again. He stood there for a long moment and watched Ianto sleep. A flutter of intense emotion swelled up inside of him, different and deeper than anything he could remember feeling before. While the sensation wasn't new, and the stirrings of it had been present for several days, it was the sudden profound intensity which startled him.

Fighting the urge to crawl back into the bed and pull Ianto into his arms again, he reluctantly turned away, admonishing himself for being overly sentimental. He quickly pulled on the pyjama bottoms he'd haphazardly tossed to the floor earlier and quietly padded out of the bedroom.

It was only a short while later when Jack returned, precariously carrying a tray loaded with glasses of orange juice, a substantial pile of bacon sandwiches, and two steaming cups of freshly brewed coffee. Thankful that he'd had the foresight to pick up a few essentials from the local supermarket on his way home from Toshiko's, he'd enjoyed preparing the simple breakfast for them. The mundane domestic task had been a welcome and grounding distraction. And he'd wanted to do something nice for Ianto. It was just a simple gesture, nothing too grand or over-the-top that might lead to tension or discomfort, but he hoped it was enough to express his gratitude. Having never been a man who found it easy or natural to speak from the heart, he preferred to convey his feelings with actions rather than awkwardly spoken words that could be open to misinterpretation or taken out of context.

He stood by the bed uncertainly for a moment, somewhat surprised to see that Ianto was still soundly sleeping. Putting the tray down on the floor, he sat on the edge of the bed and gave Ianto's shoulder a gentle nudge.

"Ianto? Come on sleepy-head, it's time to wake up," he said quietly as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the younger man's cheek, enjoying the sensuous feel of Ianto's stubbled skin against his lips.

Ianto began to stir, and he turned over onto his back as his eyes blinked open. He stared up at Jack with sleepy blue eyes. "Jack?" he mumbled thickly. "Morning." He glanced blearily at the clock and groaned. "Sorry. I must have overslept."

"Maybe I wore you out after all," Jack said with a grin. "Anyway, it gave me time to prepare a little treat for us." He gave Ianto's legs a nudge. "Scoot over a bit."

Ianto frowned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. However, he did as he was told, shifting across the bed and settling himself in an upright position, the bed covers settling low over his waist. Jack carefully picked up the tray and presented it proudly. "Voila."

The expression on Ianto's face transformed into one of complete astonishment. He leaned forward and scrutinised the tray carefully. Picking up a mug of coffee he brought it up to his nose and gave it a cautious sniff. "You made proper coffee?" he asked as he sniffed hesitantly again. "Is it safe to drink?"

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed and scowled down at him. "I've just been slaving away to make you breakfast."

Ianto rolled his eyes and took a reluctant sip. Jack wasn't sure if he should have felt outraged or amused as he watched Ianto expectantly. Although he'd probably never admit it, he found Ianto's fussy, pedantic nature completely endearing. Not to mention that the younger man looked adorable in his current sleep-dishevelled state. The fact that he was also entirely naked was just an added bonus.

"Well, what's the verdict?" Jack asked impatiently.

Ianto wasn't giving anything away. He looked impassively at Jack for a long moment, and then his features broke into a soft smile. "It's good, Jack. Very good, actually."

Jack almost sighed with relief. "I did learn from the best."

"That's true," Ianto quipped, taking his glass of juice from the tray and putting it on the bedside table next to him. He patted the bed, indicating for Jack join him.

"Cheeky bastard," Jack muttered good-naturedly.

Putting his drinks on the table by his side of the bed, he placed the plate of sandwiches next to Ianto, and put the empty tray back down on the floor. Slipping out of his pyjama bottoms, he climbed in beside the other man.

Ianto took another sip of coffee and then put the mug down on the table. "Jack…"

Jack was just reaching for a bacon sandwich when he turned to meet Ianto's eyes. He was pleasantly surprised when he found himself pulled into a heated, coffee-flavoured kiss.

"Thanks," Ianto murmured as he pulled back, his eyes warm with affection. "This is brilliant."

Feeling slightly dazed, Jack simply nodded and indicated the plate. He grabbed a sandwich for himself and began stuffing it into his mouth. Ianto retrieved one too, biting into it hungrily and making a sound of fervent appreciation. He moved closer to Jack and settled against him, and before long, they'd devoured two generous sandwiches each, leaving the plate empty.

His stomach satisfyingly full, Jack relaxed against the pillows and allowed his thoughts to drift. He wondered how many more moments like this they'd have together. The thought that it could never be enough formed in the forefront of his mind. He quickly forced it back down again.

Ianto retrieved his coffee mug and took a mouthful. "I could get used to this," he murmured, echoing Jack's thoughts.

The words immediately reminded Jack of their dance when he'd said exactly the same thing to Ianto. "Having breakfast served to you by a handsome Welsh-American?" he asked lightly.

Ianto smiled and gave him a teasing nudge. "Well, that too. But, no, I mean being here with you."

"I like being with you too, Ianto," Jack said sincerely. He paused for a moment and then decided to go out on a limb. "Do you like living at John's…" He caught himself and cringed. "Sorry… at the other apartment?"

Ianto shrugged. "It's a lovely apartment… the location is perfect. But I suppose it's a bit big just for me to be rattling around in on my own. And well, it's not mine… I mean, I didn't choose it."

"You could always sell it," Jack suggested. "Once we get things sorted out and the title is in your name. Find something you really like that you can make your own."

Ianto took another sip of his coffee. Putting the mug down, he looked at Jack dubiously. "You wouldn't mind?"

"I think it might be for the best," Jack replied, reaching for his own coffee and taking a generous mouthful. "It was John's home, but that doesn't mean it has to be yours too. He wouldn't want us hanging onto it for his sake." He paused. "I don't like being there now," he added quietly, more to himself. "There are too many memories."

Ianto nodded and rested his hand on Jack's leg, rubbing soothingly along his thigh. "Maybe it would be for the best," he agreed a moment later.

Jack took a deep breath. "Ianto, um... you can stay here as much as you want, you know. Leave some of your stuff here if you like. I can make some space for you." He paused, feeling a knot of anxiety twist in his stomach. "I'll get you a key and then you can come and go as you please."

Ianto turned and looked at him in surprise. "Jack..." he began.

Continuing quickly, Jack cut him off before he lost his nerve. "I'm not asking you for anything. I know you've got your own life to get on with and that you need your own space..."

"Jack, it's not that," Ianto said hesitantly. "But you've known me for barely a week. I don't want you to rush into anything for my sake."

Jack shook his head. "I'm not," he stated firmly. "But if we're doing this... us... it's like you said last night... we have to make the most of the time we have." He looked at Ianto anxiously. "I like having you here. It's just that..."

Jack broke off awkwardly. Part of him knew that what he was suggesting was at least slightly insane. He was more or less asking Ianto to move in with him, even if not in those precise words. But Ianto would still have his own place too, he rationalised, and Jack wasn't asking the younger man for any form of commitment. They just seemed to fit together in some bizarre, inexplicable way.

Ianto was fantastic company, he had proven himself to be a loyal and supportive friend, and he was undemanding in nature. The passion between them was undeniable, and the sex was mind-blowing, so there just didn't seem to be any reason for them not to spend as much time together as they could. And, as hard as it was to admit, Jack was utterly infatuated and simply couldn't get enough of the other man.

Ianto was watching him, frowning slightly, but patiently letting him take his time. Jack let out a shaky breath before continuing. "I don't want to be alone," he admitted, feeling acutely uncomfortable at the admission.

Ianto reached for Jack's hand. "I know you get lonely," he murmured. "But you're not alone, Jack. Not anymore." He smiled tentatively and squeezed their fingers together. "Just promise to kick me out any time you need some space, yeah?"

Jack looked into Ianto's eyes and nodded, touched by the younger man's reassurances. "Deal," he agreed readily, smiling with relief at the acceptance of his offer.

He was even more delighted when Ianto pushed the covers away and settled himself in Jack's lap, grabbing firmly onto his shoulders and capturing his mouth in a fierce, claiming kiss. It wasn't long before Jack's earlier concerns about being able to keep up with Ianto were promptly put to rest. At least for the time being.

[=====]

Jack stood by the water tower as he waited for Ianto to meet him. He checked his watch again, noting that it was only a few minutes before seven PM. The early evening air was brisk, and the Plass was bustling with activity. Staring up at the shimmering cascade of water, he tried to push down his heavy sense of foreboding.

He was wracked with self-doubt, wondering, as he had countless times before, about the wisdom of his current course of action. A part of him knew that he should just leave well enough alone. He had a chance for some genuine happiness, he reminded himself. It was a rare and unexpected gift, and that was what he should be focusing on, rather than chasing the mysterious final words of his deceased friend. But his inherent stubbornness and desperate desire for answers wouldn't allow him to let it go. He sighed and took a deep, calming breath. He needed to see this through to the end, no matter what that turned out to be. He just hoped that he wouldn't regret it.

Rubbing his hands together to ward off the cold, Jack looked around at the myriad of people going about their lives. He envied their seemingly untroubled existences. He received a few appreciative looks by passers-by as he usually did, and he wondered what people saw when they looked at him. Whatever they thought, it was probably a far cry from the reality of his life.

It was then that Jack spotted a suited figure making his way towards him. After breakfast that morning, they'd spent another hour or so together before Ianto had departed. Jack had felt a little disappointed, having hoped that they'd be able to spend a leisurely day together. But Ianto had said he had some things to do, and they'd agreed to meet in front of the water tower that evening. Jack had phoned Owen, and after some heated discussion, the doctor had grudgingly agreed to meet them at the Hub. Owen had been far from happy, but Jack hadn't given him a choice. He'd told Owen in no uncertain terms that he was going back into the simulation, with or without his help. He felt bad about it, and for forcing Owen to lie to Toshiko, but it was necessary. The rest of the day had been spent trying to distract himself from the evening ahead with a mixture of household chores, some television, and listening to randomly selected music.

As he watched Ianto approach, Jack noted that the younger man was wearing the pinstripe suit and red shirt ensemble that he'd had on at the coffee shop the week before. Jack adored the outfit, and he thought it accentuated Ianto's handsome features to perfection. But beyond the obvious pleasing aesthetics, he appreciated the way that the tailored cut of the suit and vibrant shirt seemed to subtly reflect the contrasting aspects of Ianto's fastidious yet passionate nature.

"Looking good, Mr. Jones," Jack commented with a smile after Ianto had come to a stop in front of him and they'd exchanged greetings. "Love the suit."

Jack immediately realised that it had been the wrong thing to say, as Ianto frowned and glared at him with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, well," Ianto replied, his tone a little huffy. "I didn't know what was appropriate attire for watching you have your consciousness yanked out of your head."

Jack cringed. He was taken aback by Ianto's snarky, almost angry tone. "Ianto…" he began but trailed off, not sure what to say.

Ianto continued to stare at him angrily, and Jack tensed, readying himself for whatever was going to happen next. However, with the same suddenness that Ianto's belligerence had flared up, his features softened, and his expression became apologetic. "I'm sorry, Jack," Ianto said, his voice regretful but with a noticeable hint of desperation. "It's not too late to change your mind," he urged.

"Ianto, I need to do this," Jack said firmly. "You know that."

Ianto turned away and looked up at the shimmering column of water behind them. Reaching for Ianto's hand, Jack waited until the younger man looked at him again. He was startled to see genuine fear in Ianto's blue depths. "It's going to be fine," he tried, knowing the reassurance sounded lame, even to his own ears.

Ianto shook his head sadly. "I'm not ready to lose you," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Not yet."

"Hey," Jack reassured him gently, reaching up and squeezing Ianto's shoulder. "You won't," he added determinedly.

Jack's heart wrenched as Ianto's gaze held a mixture of sadness and fear. He wondered what had happened since they'd parted company earlier. Perhaps Ianto had simply had time to think, allowing the reality of the situation and worry about the inherent risks to have taken hold.

Before Jack could form another thought, Ianto had wrapped his hands around the back of Jack's neck and pulled him into a fierce, desperate kiss. Responding instinctively, it took Jack several moments to remember where they were. The fact that they were standing in front of the brightly lit water tower in full view of everyone on the Plass wasn't helping to make them inconspicuous.

He pulled away awkwardly. "Ah, Ianto... people are watching us," he mumbled, realising that they were getting both appreciative and disapproving stares, and being pointed at by various people in the immediate vicinity.

Ianto glanced around and seemed to come to his senses, his features settling into an impassive mask. He stepped away from Jack and nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Right, then… we should get a move on."

"Ianto…" Jack tried again but faltered, not knowing what to say to make things better.

"It's fine, Jack," Ianto said, letting out a weary sigh as he turned away. "Come on, we don't want to keep Owen waiting."

Jack nodded reluctantly. Falling into step beside Ianto, they made their way towards the tourist office entrance, neither of them speaking further.


	24. Chapter 24

Enjoy the new chapter and thanks for reading. Special thanks to my fantastic beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

Jack stood at the window of his office and looked out over the brightly illuminated, but empty main level of the Hub. Ianto stood silently at his side, close, but not quite touching. They'd just completed a brief tour of the major areas in the vast underground structure while they waited for Owen to arrive. Ianto had seemed genuinely interested, and he'd been attentive as Jack had shown him around, sharing the occasional light anecdote along the way. Ianto had even made several dry remarks about the general state of untidiness, much to Jack's chagrin. However, Jack hadn't been able to help noticing that the Welshman was uncharacteristically distracted and on edge.

The silence hung uncomfortably between them as they continued to stare out through the thick glass. Jack was beginning to feel frustrated and angry. He was angry with John for putting him in such an untenable situation, with himself for not being able to let it go, and with Ianto for not being more understanding and supportive. He knew it was unfair of him, and he felt guilty for being the cause of the pained look currently present in Ianto's expressive eyes.

"It's been a hell of a week," he murmured, desperate for something to say as he thought back over everything that had happened over the last seven days.

Ianto made a sound that was somewhere between a derisive snort and a borderline hysterical laugh. "Some might even say that's a bit of an understatement."

"Yeah," Jack replied with an amused chuckle, and then wondered if he was on the verge of hysteria himself.

"You don't have any regrets, do you?" Ianto asked hesitantly, his eyes glancing briefly to meet Jack's in their reflections before flicking away again.

"No," Jack said vehemently, knowing that Ianto was talking about the two of them. "No, Ianto. Never."

"That's... well, that's good then," Ianto said roughly, suddenly turning his back to Jack and rubbing roughly at his eyes. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

Jack was at a loss. He wasn't sure that he knew what was really going on, but his heart wrenched at the sight of Ianto in pain. Especially because he knew that he was at least partly responsible for the younger man's distress. "Hey. Come here," he said gently, and pulled Ianto into an embrace.

Ianto resisted at first, his body tense and unresponsive, but then he collapsed against Jack and hung on to him tightly, burying his face against Jack's neck.

"Ianto, I..." Jack began to say as he rubbed his hand soothingly up and down the younger man's back.

"Please don't, Jack..." Ianto whispered into his ear. "Don't say anything."

Ianto pulled away enough to meet Jack's eyes, and Jack reluctantly nodded. They stared intently at each other. Jack reached up and gently wiped the moisture from Ianto's cheeks with the pad of his thumb. Stroking his fingertips over the warm, smooth skin, he leaned forward until their foreheads rested together. He closed his eyes and savoured the moment as their noses touched and their breathes mingled. Settling his hands beneath Ianto's jacket and on his hips, he held their bodies close.

It was with a horrible sense of foreboding that Jack felt like this was a goodbye of sorts, and that once he had unearthed John's discovery, nothing would ever be the same again. His friend had said as much in his final recorded words – warning him that there would be no going back. In that brief moment, Jack's resolve wavered, and he wasn't sure that whatever he would find was worth risking what he had with Ianto. He wasn't sure if anything was worth risking that.

Jack didn't know long they stayed like that, but then he heard the sound of footsteps reverberating loudly in the otherwise silent space, and Ianto abruptly broke away from their embrace, giving Jack a sad, tremulous smile.

"That'll be Owen," Jack said, knowing the words were redundant. He gave Ianto what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay, Ianto," he added, cringing inwardly at the lack of conviction in his voice.

Ianto nodded in reply, but Jack could tell from the younger man's bleak expression that he didn't believe the words any more than Jack did.

"Jack, what the hell are you..." Owen began as he appeared at the doorway of Jack's office, and abruptly stopped speaking as he spotted Ianto, a suspicious frown forming on his features.

"Hey, Owen," Jack said in greeting, giving the doctor a weary smile.

"Hi, Owen," Ianto said politely. "Good to see you again."

Owen looked at Jack, and seeing his disapproving glare, he stepped forward and gave Ianto a forced smile. "Um, yeah... nice to see you too, mate," he replied awkwardly.

"I'll just..." Ianto began, apparently noticing the tension in the air. "I'll, ah... I'll be back in a minute."

Jack gave him a grateful smile, watching as Ianto quickly retreated from the office and walked down to the main level.

"What's he doing here?" Owen demanded, stepping further into the office and glaring at Jack belligerently.

Jack sighed and moved over to his desk, leaning against it heavily. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Owen's abrasiveness. "Ianto wanted to see the Hub, and there was no reason why he shouldn't."

"I don't trust him," Owen said gruffly, glancing out through the glass at Ianto, who was wandering about aimlessly below. "There's something off about him. How much do we actually know about him? You said yourself that it was bloody odd the way he suddenly showed up." He paused and looked at Jack appraisingly. "Besides, when did you turn bender?"

"I haven't," Jack replied sharply, feeling a surge of anger. "And what Ianto and I do is none of your damn business, Owen."

Owen shrugged, and while he didn't look contrite, he seemed to realise that he might have overstepped their boundaries. "I'm not judging, mate. You can shag each other stupid for all I care. Just don't trust him, that's all I'm saying."

"Well, I do trust him," Jack snapped. "And if you can't make the effort to be friendly towards Ianto, I suggest that you at least try to be civil. Out of respect for John, if nothing else."

Owen scowled, and his eyes flashed angrily. He looked like he was about to fire off a retort, but then seemed to think better of it. "Fine," he muttered.

Jack didn't reply. He'd known that Owen would never welcome Ianto with open arms, but he'd hoped that they would become friends. That no longer seemed likely to happen in the foreseeable future.

"Tosh saw him in the city today," Owen stated hesitantly a moment later, his expression becoming a mixture of vindication and sympathy. "She said he didn't see her. He was with a woman. Tosh said she was stunning – tall, great figure, dark skin, short curly black hair."

Jack looked up sharply, a sick feeling settling in his stomach as some unpleasant thoughts raced through his mind. "So what are you implying, Owen?" he demanded, sounding more defensive than he'd intended. "That Ianto is seeing someone else behind my back?"

Owen shrugged. "Anything is possible. Like I said, how much do we know about him?"

"It could have been anyone," Jack argued, trying to convince himself as much as Owen. "Probably just an old friend he met up with."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Owen admitted grudgingly. "Anyway, when it all goes to shit, just don't say I didn't warn you."

Jack glared at him for a moment, but then he just nodded tersely and looked away, wanting the conversation to be over. The problem was that Owen had struck a nerve. He wondered if he'd become somewhat blinkered when it came to the often inscrutable Welshman. He adored Ianto, and there was no denying that he'd fallen spectacularly hard and fast, but a part of him still wasn't sure if he could actually trust the younger man. The thought of Ianto with someone else was almost unbearable.

It wasn't that Ianto had given Jack any specific reason not to trust him, but Owen was at least partly right in saying that they still didn't know much about him. Jack had been so focused on simply surviving from one day to the next, and on living in the moment, that he'd quickly allowed his initial doubts to fade. He wondered if the truth was that he didn't want to know more about Ianto out of fear for what he might discover.

Desperately wanting to change the subject and put an end to his current line of thinking, Jack looked at Owen curiously. "Does Toshiko know you're here?"

"No," Owen replied quickly as he reached up and scratched distractedly at the back of his neck. His expression turned a little guilty as he looked away and then back at Jack. "Yeah," he admitted after a moment. "I couldn't keep lying to her, Jack. I told her about what John had been doing, and about you too."

Jack felt like a wall had slammed into him. His mouth dropped open, and he stared at Owen incredulously. He remembered his encounter with Eugene, and the way Owen's doppelganger had used the exact same mannerism when he'd denied knowing anything about a message from John. Suddenly Jack knew that the bastard had been lying. He'd had his suspicions, but had quickly disregarded them as the product of irrational paranoia. However, he was now certain that the ill-tempered bartender knew far more than he'd let on.

"Jack?" Owen said, looking at him in confusion. "Look, I'm sorry, mate..." he began, obviously misinterpreting Jack's reaction.

Jack cut him off, shaking himself mentally as he recovered from the unexpected revelation. "It's okay, Owen. We would have had to tell her sooner or later. I know all of this has put you in an impossible situation."

"She was mad as hell," Owen said ruefully. "Just be prepared to get an earful next time you see her."

Jack cringed. "I'll look forward to it," he muttered sarcastically.

Owen gave him a brief smile, and Jack returned it, feeling some of the earlier tension between them start to dissipate.

"Why do you want to go back in there?" Owen asked after a moment. "You didn't exactly have a smooth ride last time. Why put yourself through that again?"

"I've got some unfinished business," Jack replied. "This will be the last time, Owen. I promise."

Owen looked at him with a quizzical expression for a moment, but then nodded reluctantly. "Let's get this over with then," he said and turning away, he promptly walked out of the office.

Jack sighed deeply and tried to gather his resolve. His determination was tempered by the deep sense of dread growing inside of him. Pushing himself resolutely away from his desk, he walked to the doorway and spotted Ianto sitting on the battered sofa near the workstations. The younger man looked up, and rising to his feet, he slowly made his way over to Jack.

Ianto came to a stop in front of him, and Jack indicated for him to go back inside the office. Jack closed the door behind them.

"Owen said that Toshiko saw you today," Jack began, knowing that he was on shaky ground, but he needed to see Ianto's reaction. "She saw you with a tall, dark-skinned woman."

Jack watched Ianto carefully. The younger man's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but his expression remained neutral. "Yep, that's right. She's an old friend. I bumped into her while I was doing a bit of shopping."

Jack nodded, but he noticed a flash of something in Ianto's eyes. It almost looked like fear. It was enough to convince Jack that Ianto wasn't being entirely truthful. "What's her name?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"What does that matter?" Ianto replied with a frown.

Jack shrugged lightly. "You've met most of my friends."

Ianto stared at him dubiously for a moment. "It's Lisa. Lisa Hallett."

Jack attempted to smile, making a mental note of the name. "Does she live around here?" he asked conversationally.

"Splott," Ianto confirmed, making a face as if the name personally offended him.

Jack nodded. "I'm glad you're spending time with some friends."

Ianto stepped closer and looked at Jack searchingly. "What's this about, Jack? You can't be jealous, surely?"

"Of course not," Jack retorted quickly, trying to resist the urge to squirm under the Welshman's scrutiny and inwardly cursing his unerring perceptiveness.

Ianto sighed and moved in closer. He gave Jack a half-smile. "She's just a friend, Jack. Someone I knew a long time ago."

"An ex-girlfriend?" Jack asked cautiously, wondering when he'd become so possessive and insecure. Then he thought about the fiercely possessive kiss Ianto that had given him earlier that evening, almost publicly staking his claim over Jack, and he didn't feel quite so bad.

"No, nothing like that," Ianto replied evenly. "Jack, there's no-one else. There's only you. As long as you want me, that's not going to change."

Jack looked at Ianto sheepishly, and he fumed at Owen for reawakening his suspicions. It wasn't as if they'd made each other any promises of exclusivity as such. It seemed far too soon in their tentative relationship for anything so definite. However, Jack knew in his heart that he only wanted to be with Ianto for the time he had left. He wanted to believe the younger man's words, but he still felt a thread of doubt tugging at him, and he was certain that Ianto was hiding something.

"I'm being a paranoid idiot, aren't I?" he said self-deprecatingly, trying to deflect from his troubling thoughts.

Ianto gave him an affectionate smile. "Just a bit."

"Thanks," Jack retorted sarcastically.

They stared at each other for a long moment. "Owen will be waiting," Jack said finally, breaking the silence. He rested his hands lightly on Ianto's shoulders, giving him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Sure you want to hang around?"

Ianto nodded. "I'm sure, Jack."

Jack doubted the wisdom of Ianto being present, but it was too late to rethink the decision, and he knew that he needed to let the matter drop. "Can I have a kiss for good luck?" he asked hopefully, wanting to lighten the moment.

Ianto rolled his eyes at Jack but smiled fondly. He took Jack's face gently in his hands, and leaning in, he pressed his lips against Jack's. The kiss was long, slow, and surprisingly tender. It was completely different from the fiercely desperate kiss they'd shared on the Plass. The depth of emotion radiating from Ianto threatened to overwhelm him, and he found himself wishing that the moment didn't have to end.

However, all too soon, they reluctantly broke apart, both sighing from the sudden loss of contact. Jack lowered his hands, and with a final gaze into the tumultuous depths of Ianto's eyes, they made their way down to Owen's lab.


	25. Chapter 25

Thanks to everyone for continuing to read and review. Special thanks as always to my wonderful beta Prothrombintime.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25<strong>

Jack drew in a deep breath and tried to relax as Owen once again went through the routine of strapping him into the chair, clamping the cortical interface onto his head, and affixing a heart rate sensor to his chest. Not for the first time, Jack thought that he must be at least half crazy to be putting himself through this ordeal again. The agony he'd endured the first time was still fresh in his mind, and he wasn't sure that he was ready to repeat the experience.

Owen remained silent as he worked, a grim expression clouding his features. He'd obviously given up on trying to reason with Jack, and Jack was grateful for the reprieve. He just needed to get this done without further debate or discussion. Standing off to one side, Ianto was watching closely, his posture tense, and his features held in a stoic mask of impassivity. The suit jacket that Ianto had eased from Jack's shoulders moments earlier was draped carefully over his arm, and Ianto held it tightly against his chest.

Their eyes met, and Jack tried to give the younger man a reassuring smile. Ianto didn't immediately respond, but after a moment his expression wavered, and he gave Jack a brief, tremulous smile in return. Despite doubting the wisdom of Ianto being present, Jack felt immeasurably relieved that the Welshman was at his side.

"How long, Owen?" Jack asked once the doctor had finished preparing him.

"One hour and thirty minutes," Owen replied as he moved over to his workstation. "You might be able to handle two hours this time, but I'm not taking any chances."

Jack just hoped that it would be enough time. Not knowing where he'd find himself once he arrived inside the simulation, he couldn't estimate how long it would take to make his way to the Ritz again. "Okay," he acknowledged.

Glancing at Ianto one more time, Jack took in another deep breath and closed his eyes. "I'm ready. Do it."

Owen initiated the transfer sequence. Jack convulsed as the now familiar pain tore through him. Then, with a final shudder, his body went still.

"Owen?" Ianto asked as he looked at Jack with an anxious expression.

"He's in," Owen confirmed, glancing up at Ianto and then looking back at his monitor. "Now we wait."

[=====]

Jack gasped, and a violent tremor coursed through his body. Taking a deep breath, he remained still for a moment and waited for the feeling of disorientation to pass. Then, blinking rapidly, he gazed around and tried to determine where he was.

He soon realised that he was sitting in a large cinema. An unfamiliar grainy black and white movie flickered on the screen, and the strains of crackly music filled his ears.

A warm, soft hand grasped his. "James, are you all right?" an unfamiliar female voice asked him in hushed tones.

Jack turned and saw the pretty face of the red-head from the office looking at him worriedly. She was presumably his date, maybe even his girlfriend. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Um... excuse me, I'll just be a minute."

Rising unsteadily to his legs, he pushed his way awkwardly to the end of the row without a backward glance, receiving several hissed admonishments along the way. Once he reached the aisle, he quickly made his way up the carpeted aisle, almost tripping several times due to the strange surroundings and near darkness. He felt a twinge of guilt for abandoning his date and for the difficulties he had no doubt just caused for James, his doppelganger, but he had more important things to think about.

Jack rushed through the brightly lit foyer, barely noticing any of his surroundings. A moment later, he was standing in the open air and surveying the bustling night-time panorama of Regent Street. Dodging around a group of boisterous pedestrians, he set off briskly down the street in search of a taxi.

It was almost forty minutes later when Jack climbed out of the taxi. He hadn't counted on the difficulty of finding a ride at that time of the evening. Relieved that he'd finally reached his destination with what he hoped was enough time to spare, he stared up at the spectacular sight of The Ritz. The entire building was bathed in golden light, and it was set against the backdrop of a perfectly still evening, the cloudless sky a blanket of bright, shimmering stars.

Jack took a moment to just stand there and gaze up in awe. Once again, he found himself sadly wishing that he could have shared the experience with John. Witnessing the wonder and joy on his friend's face would have been a rare gift. He was beginning to understand why John had logged so much time in the simulation. He could imagine John becoming addicted; his inherent thirst for exploration and knowledge fuelling a burning desire to experience every facet of the unique, new world. Jack idly wondered what Ianto would make of it all. Somehow, he thought the younger man would be as captivated as he was.

Glancing at his watch, and reminding himself that he didn't have time to waste, Jack made his way inside and headed for the ballroom.

The room was crowded and raucous, with finely attired people filling the space, all apparently having a wonderful time. The band was playing a lively, fast-paced number, while at least a dozen or so couples were doing their best to keep up on the dance floor. Feeling overwhelmed by the energy and noise, Jack spotted an empty table in the nearest right-hand corner of the room, and he eased his way surreptitiously towards it. He hoped that he wouldn't attract any undue attention. Apart from anything else, he wasn't dressed for the occasion. He felt distinctly conspicuous, attired in an unexceptional brown suit, while all the other men in the room were dressed in smart dinner suits and black or white bow ties.

After settling into his chair, Jack gazed carefully around the room. The table provided him with an unobstructed view of the bar, and he watched anxiously. An older blonde man was currently serving, and Eugene was nowhere in sight. Jack felt a surge of panic as he considered that the man he was looking for might not be working that evening. If that was the case, he had no way of finding him. But then Jack remembered that the deceitful bartender had said that he'd been working on the previous Sunday. Jack tried to remain optimistic.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait for very long. A few minutes later, Eugene appeared from a door just beyond the left side of the bar area. He moved quickly behind the bar and began helping the other bartender. The man's movements seemed nervous and he was glancing around furtively, as if looking for or expecting someone.

Gathering his resolve, Jack rose to his feet and headed across the vast room, walking determinedly towards the bar. He'd covered half of the distance when Eugene's eyes settled on him, and he froze as he stared at Jack fearfully. Jack faltered in his stride, taken aback by the unexpected reaction. Then the bartender sprinted towards the door he'd exited from several minutes earlier. Jack swore under his breath and took off after him, forcing his way through the throng of people in his path. Reaching the door, Jack pushed it open and stepped through as he heard the other bartender yelling that he wasn't supposed to be in there.

The cacophony of sound was muted as the door swung closed behind him. The room beyond was dark, compared to the harsh brightness of the ballroom. It appeared to be a large storeroom with a long corridor leading away at the far end. There was a row of lockers along the far wall, and Jack immediately spotted Eugene, frantically grabbing something from one of them. He turned and glanced over his shoulder at Jack, and then he took off again, heading down the corridor.

"Hey!" Jack shouted after the retreating figure. "Eugene! I just want to talk to you."

The man continued sprinting down the corridor, completely ignoring Jack's plea.

"Fuck," Jack muttered and ran after him.

[=====]

Ianto continued to stand at Jack's side as he watched the older man intently. He turned to glance at Owen. "Is he all right?"

Owen turned away from his monitor and looked over towards the Welshman. "Yeah, so far."

Ianto nodded in reply and leaned against the nearby desk with a heavy sigh, his eyes returning to watch over Jack.

Owen studied the other man curiously. "I'll say this for you, you don't mess around," he said abruptly, glaring at Ianto with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "So, what's the deal Ianto, what do you want?"

Ianto's head swivelled to face Owen, and he looked at him blankly. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come off it," Owen said impatiently. "You've been here a week, and you've got Jack wrapped around your little finger. You turn up out of the blue, and suddenly Jack's turned gay." He eyed Ianto appraisingly. "You must be one hell of a good shag."

"He's not gay," Ianto said quietly, but with a steely edge to his voice. "Anyway, it's not like that... me and Jack."

"You and Jack," Owen scoffed. "So, what… you're not just fuck buddies?"

Ianto visibly cringed. "Jack's important to me, Owen. I care about him. Jack needs me."

"Seems to me that he was just fine before you came along," Owen retorted. "He'll be fine after you're gone again too."

"I'm not going anywhere," Ianto said determinedly. "You're Jack's friend, Owen… don't you think he deserves some happiness?"

"Of course I do," Owen snapped, but the question seemed to take him by surprise. "And you think you can give him that?" he asked doubtfully after a moment.

Ianto nodded stiffly. "Yes."

Owen shrugged, looking unconvinced. He fixed Ianto with a threatening glare. "Just remember that if you hurt Jack, you'll have all of us to answer to."

"Noted," Ianto replied tersely. He turned and gazed down at Jack's still form. "Whatever you think about me, Owen, I'd never hurt him."

Owen turned back to his monitor. "Yeah, well," he muttered. "You'd better not."

[=====]

Jack pelted down the long stretch of corridor, his heavy footsteps echoing loudly in the dark, confined space. The wiry bartender was surprisingly fast on his feet, but Jack had managed not to lose too much ground as he pursued him relentlessly. He wasn't giving up when he was so close.

Suddenly, Eugene disappeared, having veered off to the right. Jack skidded to a halt when he reached the junction, and found a heavy wooden door leading to a stairwell beyond. Cursing again, he charged through the door and began climbing upwards. He could hear Eugene ahead of him, probably by no more than a flight or two. He pushed onwards, breathing hard from the exertion.

Continuing upwards until the stairs came to an end, he paused to read the sign on the door in front of him, declaring that he'd reached the roof. Surprisingly, Eugene hadn't exited the stairs on any of the other floors, and Jack had heard the roof access door slam shut only moments before he'd reached it.

Thinking that he finally had the other man cornered, Jack pushed the door open and walked out onto the rooftop of the Ritz. The expansive view of London before him was breathtaking, but as Jack gazed around searchingly, he couldn't see the other man. It was then that he heard an ominous click, and he froze as the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his skull. Jack's stomach fell as he belatedly realised his mistake. He now knew what Eugene had been frantically retrieving from his locker before he'd made a run for it.

"What are you?" Eugene asked roughly, his voice shaking.

Jack raised his hands slowly. "I told you. My name's Jack Harkness. I'm a friend of Charles Wilson. Look, Eugene... I just want the message he gave you. That's all. Then I'll leave, and you'll never see me again."

Eugene pressed the gun harder against Jack's head. "Turn around and step back. Don't try anything funny or I'll shoot."

Jack nodded. Swallowing hard, he drew a deep breath, and then he cautiously took several steps forward before slowly turning to face the other man. Looking into the face he knew as his friend Owen, he was startled by the combination of fear and anger transforming the familiar features. Eugene was visibly trembling and appeared to be on the verge of hysteria. Jack feared that the man might be beyond listening to reason.

"I read your precious letter," Eugene said angrily, glaring at Jack. "I thought it was some sort of joke... all that stuff about going to the end of the world. But then I saw you switch with Ellis. I talked to him... he didn't know anything. He didn't know who Jack Harkness was. He said the last thing he remembered was sitting at his desk at work... then he woke up two hours later, and he was on the floor of the ballroom, staring up at me."

Eugene stepped forward and waved the gun threateningly at Jack's face. "So, I did what the letter said. I got in my car and started driving. I didn't stop for anything. I kept going in the same direction. It sounded crazy but I did it anyway. Then everything became still... quiet... there were no signs of life. When I couldn't go any further, I got out of my car... and what I saw scared me to the depths of my miserable soul."

"I don't understand," Jack whispered, feeling a cold sense of dread settle over him.

"Everything the letter said was true." Eugene waved his arm in front of him. "None of this is real. It's all just some sick, twisted game. And you're up there somewhere, laughing at us, and fucking with our lives. So, I want to know why? Why are you doing this to us? Who gave you the right to play God?"

Jack shook his head in confusion. He was horrified that Eugene had discovered the true nature of his existence. That wasn't supposed to be possible. It didn't make sense that John would write a letter telling him about the limitations of the simulation. Jack knew the limitations as well as the rest of the team. "You were never meant to know," he said quietly. "You're not meant to be able to see the limitations of the system."

"Yeah, well, it's a bit late for that now," Eugene retorted sharply. "How do I get out of here? Tell me how to get to the real world."

"I'm sorry. You can't," Jack said sadly, swallowing hard and feeling sick. "You're not real."

Eugene shook his head violently, as if trying to banish the unwanted knowledge from his mind. "So, are you real, Jack Harkness?" he said menacingly. "If I shoot you, will you die?"

"No. But you'll kill James Ellis," Jack stated. "You don't want to do that," he tried, still hoping there was a chance he could reason with him. "You're not a murderer."

"What does it matter?" Eugene argued, his eyes going wild. "None of this is real anyway. James isn't any more real than I am."

"I'm sorry," Jack said sincerely, at a loss to know what else to say. "I'm so sorry."

Eugene stared at him in disbelief for a long moment. Jack held his gaze. Then Eugene's shoulders slumped in defeat and he lowered his gun. "What happens when we die?" he asked tremulously. "Do we come back? Do we wake up and start all over again?"

"Everything you believe about the world is true," Jack explained, trying to keep his voice calm. "When you die, you cease to exist." He looked pleadingly at the other man. "Please, I need to see that letter. I need to know what it says."

"It's gone," Eugene said with a shrug. "I destroyed it."

Jack felt his heart sink. Everything he'd been through was for nothing. He looked down forlornly at his watch. He only had a few minutes left. "Please, Eugene. Just tell me what else it said," he begged desperately.

Eugene just laughed hysterically. "Maybe some day I'll see you in hell, Jack Harkness."

Before Jack could react, Eugene leapt up onto the low brick parapet around the edge of the roof, and staring back at Jack, he placed the barrel of his revolver into his mouth. Then he closed his eyes, and his features settled into a look of calm resignation.

"No!" Jack shouted, frantically racing forward, but knowing it was already too late.

Jack watched in horror as Eugene pulled the trigger. The explosive bang filled his ears, and then the other man's body toppled backwards off the building.

[=====]

Jack's eyes shot open as he let out a shuddering gasp. He took several deep breaths as the disorientation of being pulled from the simulation faded, and he realised that he was safely back at the Hub. His head pounded violently, and an intense wave of nausea passed over him.

Ianto's worried features stared down at him. "Jack?" he asked insistently. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jack managed to croak out, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to push away the pain. "Think I'm gonna be sick," he mumbled.

"Shit!" Owen said and pushed Ianto aside as he began hurriedly unstrapping Jack from the chair.

Ianto looked around and reached to grab a nearby rubbish bin from under Owen's desk. Rushing back to Jack's side, he held it at the ready as Owen removed the last of the restraints. Jack surged forward and promptly threw up into the bin as Ianto held it out in front of him.

"Thanks," Jack muttered as he collapsed back against the chair and took Ianto's proffered handkerchief to wipe his mouth.

"Probably just a side-effect from coming out of the simulation," Owen observed as he fussed over Jack, looking distinctly worried.

"Ianto…" Jack murmured and reached for the younger man's hand, grasping it desperately.

"It's okay, Jack," Ianto said gently. "You're safe. Everything's fine."

Jack nodded absently, but he was struggling to focus as the pain in his skull intensified.

He tried to get to his feet, but his vision blurred, and the room spun around wildly. He swayed for a moment, trying in vain to stay upright. His legs felt incredibly weak, and he was helpless as they suddenly gave way beneath him.

"Jack!" Ianto cried out.

It was the last thing Jack heard before he fell heavily to the floor, the impact violently jarring his body, as the world around him faded into darkness once more.


	26. Chapter 26

Finally! Hope it was worth the wait! Thanks to everyone for continuing to read and I very much appreciate the reviews. Special thanks as always to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 26<strong>

Jack drifted slowly into consciousness. Blinking several times as he tried to push past the grogginess of a deep but unsettling sleep, he rubbed at his eyes and glanced blearily at the clock on his bedside table. The slightly out of focus blue digits declared the time as 9.15 AM. He realised with surprise that he'd been asleep for the best part of twelve hours. Tilting his head up, he glanced around. The bedroom was almost dark, suffused in gloomy and oppressive shadows by traces of feeble, grey morning light. Except for himself, the room was conspicuously empty. The muted sound of rushing water reached his ears through the closed door of the en-suite. It abruptly stopped a few moments later.

Settling back into the pillows, Jack closed his eyes again and attempted to organise his tangled thoughts. The trip from the Hub back to his apartment was somewhat of a jumbled blur. He'd woken after blacking out, finding himself laid out flat on the Hub's shabby sofa, the concerned faces of Owen and Ianto looking down at him intently. Ianto had been holding his hand in a vice-like grip, and Jack had noted the genuine look of fear filling the younger man's expressive eyes. Even though he'd regained consciousness, the pain tearing through his skull had only slightly abated. But after further fussing by Owen, he had assured the doctor that he was fine, and that he just needed to go home and get some rest.

Ianto had helped him with his shoes and jacket, and then with Jack's arm wrapped around his shoulders, he'd slowly guided Jack up through the Hub and to the underground parking spaces where Jack had left his car. Owen had glared at the Welshman before they'd departed, telling him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't to leave Jack alone, and that he was to call him if there were any problems. Jack had seen that Owen had questions about what had happened inside the simulation, but he'd been too dazed and shocked to offer any explanations. Ianto had nodded tersely in reply to Owen's instructions, and they'd headed off.

Ianto had driven them home in Jack's car. During the brief trip, Jack had been desperately trying to make sense of his disturbing encounter with Eugene. However, he'd been in too much pain, his thoughts too muddled, and he'd been reeling from having witnessed Eugene kill himself. He'd tried to remind himself that Eugene hadn't been a real person, and that he was merely a digital fabrication who had happened to share Owen's appearance. But everything about the experience had felt sickeningly real. Eugene's enraged words reverberated in his mind, and they'd given him cause to seriously doubt the wisdom of their work. He was starting to wonder if the entire project, all of their hard work and tireless dedication, was a horrible mistake.

They'd reached the apartment without incident, thankfully not having encountered any of Jack's neighbours along the way. Ianto had needed to practically carry Jack through to the bedroom. Jack had been exhausted and bordering on incoherency. Gently stripping off Jack's clothes, Ianto had dressed him in a pair of pyjama pants and fetched him a glass of water, along with his medication and painkillers. He vaguely recalled Ianto easing him into bed, his features set in a worried frown. The younger man had murmured some gentle, comforting words, and then kissed him tenderly on the forehead. It was the last thing Jack remembered before unconsciousness had claimed him again.

His sleep had been punctuated by strange and disturbing dreams. There had been variations of his recurrent nightmares about a relentless, psychopathic killer, but instead of a experiencing a complete sequence of events, his subconscious had conjured up a fragmented kaleidoscope of frightening, incomplete glimpses. He'd seen John's face; his features morphing into a mixture of pain and horror as a knife plunged brutally into him over and over again. And he'd seen Ianto in a strange, shadowy, dungeon-like room, the air dense and cloying with the smell of sweat and sex. Naked, drenched, and writhing in ecstasy, Ianto had been surrounded by a group of leering men, each of them taking their turn pleasuring themselves with the Welshman's willing body. Jack shuddered violently beneath the bed covers as the frightening images assaulted his mind.

Forcing his thoughts back to the present, Jack listened to the soft sounds of Ianto moving about in the bathroom. He turned onto his side and stared at the closed door. His thoughts drifted back to their last conversation. He'd tried to convince himself that he was just being paranoid, but the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that Ianto was hiding something from him.

Jack couldn't deny that he cared deeply for the young Welshman, and he was certain that Ianto reciprocated those feelings. He'd taken good care of Jack, staying with him and vowing to be with him for the time they had left. And he hadn't betrayed Jack's secret by revealing his condition to Owen. Jack couldn't really have blamed him if he had, given the circumstances. But Ianto had retained a level head remarkably well and not given in to any panic that he must have been experiencing. Jack felt profound gratitude and affection for Ianto, and yet he couldn't seem to bring himself to completely trust him. Apart from anything else, he still couldn't quite accept that Ianto's arrival in Cardiff had simply been a random, fortuitous event. He'd almost let it go, but Owen's warnings had brought the lingering vestiges of his doubts back to the forefront of his mind. Far too many strange and inexplicable things had occurred for them to all be written off as mere coincidence.

Jack considered confronting Ianto and demanding answers from him, but he was sure that he'd only receive a steadfast denial. He now had three mysteries to solve: the first was discovering the identity of John's killer and the motive for his death, the second was to somehow determine the meaning and full contents of John's lost message, and the third was discovering what Ianto was hiding.

The door slowly opened, and Jack watched through hooded eyes as Ianto quietly padded into the bedroom, one of Jack's white, fluffy towels wrapped around his waist. Glancing across at Jack, but showing no indication that he thought Jack was awake, Ianto discarded the towel and pulled on fresh underwear and socks that he'd retrieved from his bag. He then dressed in his suit trousers and shirt from the night before.

Deciding that he couldn't hide his wakeful state any longer, Jack pushed himself up with a groan and stretched out his body. Ianto looked up sharply. "Jack, you're awake," he said unnecessarily, a noticeable tone of relief in his voice.

"Yeah," Jack mumbled. He forced a smile to his face, hoping that Ianto hadn't noticed the effort it had taken. "Didn't realise it was so late."

Ianto moved over to the bed and sat down on the edge. He looked at Jack intently. "How are you feeling?"

Jack shrugged. "My head still hurts, but it's not as bad as it was."

Ianto nodded. "Owen phoned earlier to see how you are. I told him you were still asleep but that you're okay. He said not to worry about going in today, and that he'll cover for you with the others. He said to tell you to take it easy."

"Okay, thanks." Jack reached for Ianto's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Ianto... thanks for... well, for being here and taking care of me."

"Anytime," Ianto replied with a half-smile, but like Jack's, it seemed forced. "I was worried about you."

Jack sighed. He felt a stab of regret for what he'd put Ianto and Owen through, especially given Ianto's strong objections. "Sorry. I guess going back in was too much for me."

Ianto nodded again. He looked at Jack curiously as if he wanted to say more but was holding himself back. "Er... I was about to make coffee. Do you want some breakfast?"

Jack was about to decline, not sure if his stomach was up to it, but he was starving and knew he should try to eat something. "Maybe just some toast, and coffee sounds great." He heaved himself from the bed with a groan, Ianto standing up with him. "Think I'll have a shower first."

Giving Ianto a quick kiss, Jack walked into the bathroom, watching for a moment as Ianto headed out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. Jack pulled the door closed behind him.

He indulged in a long, hot shower, hoping it would help to settle his confused thoughts. Once done, he shaved, completed the rest of his morning routine, and dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. Then he joined Ianto in the kitchen.

Jack was somewhat amused when Ianto gently but firmly guided him over to the sofa and proceeded to serve him a bowl of porridge, toast spread generously with strawberry jam, and a steaming mug of fresh, strong coffee. While Jack abhorred being coddled, especially given his current circumstances, he had to admit that it was nice to be taken care of a little. More so, it felt good just to have someone around who cared enough to want to look after him. Unfortunately, it also made what he planned to do about Ianto all the more distasteful.

Ianto sat beside him and sipped at his coffee as Jack dug into his porridge, having already taken an eager mouthful from his own mug.

"What happened, Jack?" Ianto asked hesitantly, almost as if he didn't want to hear the answer. "Did you find John's message?"

"No, not exactly," Jack replied with a weary sigh.

While eating his breakfast, he recounted an abridged version of events. He'd considered how much he should actually tell Ianto, but he was curious about how the other man would react. As Jack retold the events leading up to Eugene's demise, Ianto listened attentively, but he looked deeply unsettled.

"There must be a glitch in the system… some anomaly in the programming," Jack concluded. "He shouldn't have been able to learn the truth. It's not supposed to be possible." He sighed again and shook his head in confusion. "Maybe that's what John discovered, but it doesn't make sense. If he'd found an issue with the software, why would he go to so much trouble to conceal it?"

Ianto didn't respond, apparently similarly lost for answers.

Jack drank down the last of his coffee and put the empty mug down on the table. "Thanks for making breakfast, Ianto," he added. "I was hungrier than I thought."

Ianto nodded absently. "Are you okay?"

"I suppose," Jack replied with a shrug, knowing that Ianto was referring to what happened with Eugene. "It's not like he was real."

It wasn't a lie, but it felt like one. He was trying to convince himself that what he'd witnessed hadn't affected him and that it didn't matter or really mean anything. But it had affected him, and more profoundly than he was ready to openly admit. Eugene had seemed as real as anyone Jack had ever known. He'd been a sentient, virtual soul. Just because he hadn't been composed of flesh and blood didn't make him any less real. When faced with the awful truth about the nature of his existence, he hadn't been able to endure living, knowing that everything around him was a pretence. Eugene had realised that his entire world was a lie. He'd been able to determine the truth, and he had reacted to that knowledge with authentic, human emotions. Surely that had to mean he'd been a real, cogitative, self-aware person.

_Cogito ergo sum._ I think, therefore I am.

As Descartes' philosophical phrase resonated in Jack's thoughts, John's own words came flooding back. _Ignorance is bliss... knowledge often comes at a price... sometimes that price is too high... I've discovered something… something incredible... it changes everything... there's no going back... I wish there was some other way..._

The words cascaded and twisted through Jack's mind, gathering thunderous momentum. And then they suddenly coalesced with heart-stopping clarity. A cold feeling of horror reached down to his very core. He'd finally arrived at the only conclusion that made sense, but even as he dared to consider the unthinkable, his mind reeled against the terrible possibility, rejecting it as madness. It was completely and utterly insane. It had to be a cruel, deluded response brought on by the stress he'd been under. His tortured psyche was playing games with him again.

"Jack, what is it?" Ianto asked, looking at him worriedly, his voice abruptly breaking through Jack's chaotic thoughts.

Jack stared dumbstruck at the other man. Ianto surely couldn't know. There was no possible way that he could, Jack reasoned. He had to make sure it stayed that way. He would need to find proof for himself, but if what he feared was true, no one else could ever know.

"I'm fine," Jack lied, hoping he'd managed to transform his features into a convincingly dispassionate mask. "I think I'm still in a state of shock," he added by way of deflection. "It was all so real."

Ianto nodded slowly. "It _was_ real, Jack. What you saw was real to you."

"Yeah," Jack agreed quickly. He reached over and patted Ianto's knee affectionately. "I'm okay. I just need some more rest, a bit of time to myself. Besides, I'm sure you've got things you want to do."

Ianto looked at him dubiously. "You're sure you don't want me to stay with you?"

"No, I'll be fine," Jack replied, getting to his feet. "I'll take care of those later," he continued, indicating their breakfast dishes. "Go and enjoy the day." He gave Ianto what he hoped was a disarming smile. "Call me later?"

Ianto continued to look at him with concern. "All right, if you're sure."

A few minutes later, having collected his jacket and shoes, and after giving Jack a parting kiss goodbye, Ianto left the apartment. Leaning heavily against the inside of his front door, Jack took several steadying breaths and tried to focus his tumultuous thoughts. He shrugged on his jacket and grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys. After waiting several minutes to give Ianto enough time to be clear of the building, he left the apartment and took the lift down to the parking garage.

It didn't take long for Jack to drive the short distance to John's building. He parked in a side-street opposite the main entrance and waited anxiously. The wait wasn't long, and soon enough, he spotted Ianto approaching. The younger man walked quickly down the street and then entered the building.

Jack continued to watch and wait. About ten minutes later, Ianto appeared again. He'd changed clothes and was now dressed casually in faded jeans and a black hooded top. He glanced around furtively and then made his way down the street, walking away from Jack's location. Reaching the end of the block, Ianto abruptly turned to the right and vanished down a side-street.

Jack hastily started the car and coasted slowly until he reached the street in question. Anxiously hoping that Ianto wouldn't turn and look back, Jack turned into the side-street and immediately pulled over, easing in behind a parked car for cover. He kept his head down low as he watched Ianto continue walking purposefully down the long, narrow pavement.

Eventually, Ianto came to a halt beside a compact dark blue sedan, and unlocking the door, he climbed inside. Then he promptly drove off. Jack was so stunned that it took him a moment to recover. He started his car again and set off in pursuit.

Fearing that Ianto would spot his car, Jack tried to keep as much distance as possible between them without completely losing sight of the other vehicle. A light rain had settled in, reducing visibility slightly, and it worked to his advantage. He continued to follow with cautious determination, his hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel as he negotiated the mid-morning traffic. He wasn't surprised when Ianto's car left the bay area behind and headed towards nearby Splott.

The trip was mercifully short, much to Jack's relief. As he stopped at an intersection where Ianto had turned left moments earlier, he saw the other man's car slow and then reverse into a parking space on the left-hand side of the street. Jack turned right and quickly pulled over. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turned and watched through the rear window. Ianto exited the car, walked across the road, and entered one of the unremarkable, rather shabby looking terrace houses that lined the narrow, suburban street.

As Jack continued to watch, he pulled out his phone and did an online directory search for the name Lisa Hallett. Scrolling through the results, he soon spotted a match for the street on which he was currently parked, and judging by the couple of house numbers he could make out on either side of him, she lived in the house that Ianto had just entered.

Jack swore under his breath and angrily tossed the phone down on the passenger seat. There could be a perfectly innocent explanation, he tried to convince himself. But Ianto had lied about not having a car, and he'd been reluctant to talk about this Lisa. For all Jack knew, it was just the periphery of an intricate web of deceit. Perhaps everything about Ianto Jones had been a deception from the very start. His chest tightened, and he felt confused and hurt by the thought of being played so masterfully.

He continued to watch the house for another ten minutes, his mind twisting with increasingly unpleasant and unlikely possibilities. When it was apparent that Ianto wasn't leaving any time soon, Jack started his car and slowly drove away. He thought about marching up to the unassuming house, banging on the door, confronting Ianto, and demanding the truth from him. But Jack wasn't sure if he had the courage to hear what Ianto might have to say, and there was something else he needed to do first.

Leaving Splott and Cardiff behind, Jack drove onto the M4 motorway and headed east. He stopped briefly in Newport for petrol, also purchasing some bottles of water and snacks for the expected long journey ahead of him. Departing Newport, he turned off the M4 just before crossing the border into England and headed north. He felt sick with dread as he drove, his stomach twisting and churning, while his heart ached from Ianto's apparent betrayal. The urge to turn around and go home seemed to itch constantly at his mind, but with grim determination, he continued resolutely onwards. There was no going back now. He was going to learn the truth, no matter how high the cost. And if that meant sacrificing his increasingly precarious state of sanity, then that was the price he would have to pay.

He continued driving for several hours. Taking little notice of his surroundings, Jack concentrated single-mindedly on going north, taking whichever roads provided the least amount of deviation.

By the time he'd reached the northern most part of Wales, he was on the brink of turning back, having all but convinced himself that he was becoming mentally unhinged. But then, as he studied the landscape ahead, he realised that something was wrong. He was driving through flat, green countryside, and there were no cars, people, or even animals in sight. Everything had become eerily quiet and still. He expected to have reached another populated area by now, but the flat, empty expanse before him seemed to reach endlessly out to the horizon. The sky seemed different too. It was a clear, perfect blue, but it was empty and lifeless.

Jack continued to drive for another ten minutes, the now familiar feeling of cold dread settling low in his stomach and growing in intensity with each passing moment. The road became narrower and eventually came to an abrupt end. With his heart pounding violently in his chest, Jack stepped out of the car and froze as he gazed out at the impossible, terrifying sight before him.

_What I saw scared me to the depths of my miserable soul._

Eugene's haunting words filled Jack's mind as he stared out into an endless black void of absolute nothingness. The darkness stretched out to either side as far as he could see. He'd reached the end of the world.

Jack collapsed to his knees as he continued to stare out into the darkness. A cold, numbness spread through him, filling him with overwhelming despair. Everything he believed, every memory he had, everything he'd ever felt or experienced, his entire existence... it was all a lie.

Just like Eugene and the rest of the people inhabiting their artificial world, Jack and everyone he'd ever known were merely program units in a vast, simulated reality. He was nothing more than a digital puppet with delusions of sentience. He and their team had helped John to create a simulation _within_ a simulation. That was what John had discovered, and the terrible knowledge had earned him a death-sentence.

Jack had finally uncovered the awful, soul-destroying truth. A truth that he was never meant to have known... the world was a sham.


	27. Chapter 27

We're getting closer to the end now, only four more chapters to go after this one. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks as always to my very talented beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 27<strong>

Jack wasn't sure how long he'd stayed there kneeling on the ground, paralysed and helpless, staring out into the dark abyss. His initial shock had gradually given way to a desolate sense of acceptance. Rationalising that he'd be dead soon anyway, it didn't really seem to matter any longer. Assuming he wasn't murdered, as John had been, or simply purged from the simulation by some malevolent overseer in the real world, his tumour would inevitably kill him. But he wasn't sure if he could bear to live even one more day, knowing that nothing about him or the environment he existed in was real. With the knowledge he now possessed, he couldn't imagine how it would be possible to cling to the tenuous threads of his sanity.

He idly wondered how John had discovered the truth. He assumed that his friend had seen something... some glitch or anomaly in the world... probably something inconsequential that no-one else would ever notice, but enough to raise the suspicions of someone who was looking for it. Perhaps John's time in their simulation had heightened his senses in such a way that he'd been able to perceive anomalies that no-one else could.

Jack reasoned that the simulation was similar to the one they'd created, except on a much larger scale, and far more sophisticated. The system should have prevented its inhabitants from determine the truth. Perhaps that was the real anomaly – that purely by some random, inexplicable event, John had been able to break through the boundaries of the system. With the integrity of the world at risk of being compromised, John had been removed in a sufficiently mundane manner. The brutality of John's removal, however, was deeply unsettling. Jack was now in the same position. For all he knew, he had only hours left before he would meet with a similar fate.

With nothing else to do, Jack managed to summon enough cognisance to climb resignedly back into his car. With a final glance at where the world he knew literally ceased to exist, he started the car, turned it around, and began the long journey home. He didn't dare to look back.

It was well after eight PM when Jack wearily entered his apartment. The drive home had seemed interminable. In his distracted state, navigating his way back had been arduous, and he'd made several wrong turns, prolonging the journey even further. He felt exhausted, he ached all over, and his head was pounding.

He found himself constantly looking for evidence that everything around him was a deception. He felt like he was on a vast movie set – authentic at a casual glance, but on closer examination, all just props and window-dressing. Just enough to provide the illusion of reality for the cameras. However, despite his best scrutiny, the simulation remained flawless, it's virtual walls impenetrable to his senses. He wondered if perhaps he'd wake up tomorrow and decide that the day had been some trauma-induced, delusional nightmare or a side-effect of the tumour pressing against his brain. It was a nice thought, but he didn't think he was that far gone quite yet. John had warned him, but he'd stubbornly persisted in his quest for the truth. He had tumbled down the rabbit hole, and there was no hope of crawling back out again. John had been right – ignorance was bliss.

Making his way to the bathroom, Jack stripped off his clothes and took a long, hot shower, hoping it would help to ease his fatigue. As the heated water had streamed down over his body, he'd gathered his resolve. There was one more truth he needed to uncover before the day was over.

After quickly drying his hair, he padded out to the bedroom and dressed again, swapping his t-shirt for a blue, button-down dress shirt, but retaining his jeans and leather jacket. He took some painkillers and then gulped down a hastily prepared cup of instant coffee, somewhat childishly revelling in the subversive act, despite his vehemently protesting taste buds.

He tried phoning Ianto, but as he'd expected, there was no answer at John's former apartment. Cursing in frustration, he grabbed his keys and headed out of the apartment again. His thoughts and emotions were in a state of turmoil, but he was determined to finally get his questions about Ianto Jones answered, one way or another.

A short while later, he was back in Splott and banging loudly on the door of the terraced house he'd seen Ianto enter earlier that day. Ianto's car was gone, and Jack had searched carefully up and down the length of the darkened street, but he hadn't found it parked elsewhere. However, a halo of light emanated from around the edges of the drawn curtains of the front window, so it appeared that someone was at home.

Jack was just about to knock again when the door cracked open. He found himself looking at the face of an attractive, dark-skinned woman who he assumed from Owen's description was the mysterious Lisa Hallett.

Jack attempted his best charming, non-threatening smile. "Hello. I'm looking for Ianto?"

The woman stared at him with a look of suspicion and then confusion. "Sorry, I don't know anyone with that name," she replied, and began to close the door.

"Please... wait," Jack tried insistently. "You're Lisa? Lisa Hallett?"

She stopped and looked at him suspiciously again. "Yes," she replied cautiously. "I'm Lisa."

"My name is Jack... Jack Harkness." Jack paused and smiled again. "I know you and Ianto are friends. He mentioned your name. I'm a friend of his too. I'm just trying to find him. Please... it's very important."

"I don't know anyone called Ianto," she reiterated with a frown and looked at Jack curiously.

Jack looked back at her in confusion and wondered what to do. "He's about the same height as me, short brown hair, slim build, good looking. He has blue eyes and he's very Welsh," he explained, and then a shocking thought occurred to him. "Ah... perhaps you know him by a different name?" he suggested hesitantly.

A voice called out from within the house. It was a muffled, male voice, but it definitely wasn't Ianto's. Lisa turned her head towards the interior and called back, "It's just someone looking for Dylan." She looked back at Jack. "My boyfriend's here," she stated, clearly warning Jack that she wasn't alone.

"You said the name Dylan?" Jack asked in astonishment.

"He rents the flat upstairs," Lisa replied. "What do you want with him?"

Jack's mind was reeling from the possibility that the man he knew as Ianto and this Dylan were one and the same. "I'm sorry... you and he... you're not together?"

Lisa looked shocked and then laughed. "God, no. Besides, I'm not his type." She narrowed her eyes at Jack. "Are you really a friend of his?"

"Yes, I am," Jack replied sincerely. "It's important that I speak with him. Do you know where I can find him?"

"He hasn't been around much lately," Lisa answered, but she continued to look at Jack doubtfully. "He spends a lot of time at that awful club. He went out a while ago. He's probably there."

"Club?" Jack asked.

"Torchwood," she replied disapprovingly. "Have you heard of it? I suppose that's where you met him?"

The name sounded vaguely familiar. "No, I've never been there," Jack replied, shaking his head. "Okay, I'll try that. Thanks," he added and turned to leave.

"If you really are his friend," Lisa said hesitantly, causing Jack to turn back. "Perhaps you can convince him to get some help... I think something's wrong with him. He said he's been having blackouts, and lately he's been acting strange. I've tried to tell him to at least see a doctor, but he keeps saying he's fine."

Jack felt his stomach drop as he stared back at her. If Ianto, or Dylan, was having blackouts too, he had a horrible feeling he knew what that meant.

"I'll see what I can do," Jack mumbled, deeply disturbed by this latest revelation. "Thanks again."

Lisa nodded and quickly closed the door. Jack took a deep breath and then walked back towards his car, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and rapidly punching in the name 'Torchwood.'

Jack climbed into his car and hastily drove away. He hadn't noticed the occupied car parked further down the street, or realised that his exchange with Lisa had been watched with intent curiosity by Gwen Cooper.

[=====]

It was nearly ten PM by the time Jack approached the entrance of the Torchwood club. It was located on the outskirts of the northern end of the city centre, and he'd quickly determined that it was a gay bar. The exterior of the building was bland and inconspicuous, painted in black, with a heavy entrance door, and no discernible windows across the length of its street frontage. Above the door was a bright blue, neon sign in a strange but distinctive pattern of interlocking hexagons in the shape of a large letter 'T'. There was nothing else on the exterior to indicate what the building might contain, but the muffled thump of dance music could be clearly heard from outside. Swallowing hard, Jack quickly made his way inside.

A tall, heavy-set man dressed in a black shirt and suit stood inside the entrance. His dark eyes glowered as he stared down at Jack. Muttering a greeting, Jack glanced up at the cover charge sign and extracted a ten pound note from his wallet, passing it to the man. He received a curt nod in reply and was waved forward.

A dimly lit entry area and corridor gave way to a huge open expanse, dominated by a dance floor with a DJ booth in the far corner and a large bar area. The perimeter was populated by small tables and one wall was lined with more private booths. There was a curving stairwell in one corner, just next to the bar, and it led up to a balcony area, which looked out over the dance floor below.

It was loud and surprisingly busy, but being a Monday, it wasn't as crowded as Jack assumed it would be on other nights. The majority of the men seemed to be young, at least noticeably younger than him. Looking around awkwardly, and feeling out of his element and self-conscious, Jack headed over to the bar. He took a seat at the far end where he hoped to be able to remain relatively inconspicuous.

Jack gazed out through the harsh, flickering lights to the dance floor. Bodies undulated to the pulsating bass line of the music, some of them in various states of undress with glistening, sweat-slicked skin on display. The atmosphere of the room was heavy and warm; the air suffused with an almost palpable sense of lust and raw sexual desire. The music continued to pound relentlessly, reverberating through Jack's body and intensifying the ache in his skull.

"What can I get you?" a voice said close to his ear, causing Jack to turn abruptly to see a young, dark-skinned bartender with closely cropped hair looking at him curiously.

"Er... a scotch and soda," Jack answered with a smile, digging out some money from his wallet and dropping it down in front of him. "Thanks."

Grabbing his drink gratefully as soon as the man put it down in front of him, Jack took a generous mouthful.

"New here?" the man asked conversationally. "Don't think I've seen you around before. I'm Mickey, by the way."

"Jack," he replied, introducing himself. "No, never been here before. Not that you could tell, right?" he added self-deprecatingly.

Mickey chuckled. "Yeah, but that's okay. Always a first time for everything."

Jack forced a smile and looked back out at the dance floor. As his eyes scanned the countless unfamiliar faces, he suddenly froze when he spotted Ianto off to one side. He was dancing provocatively with a very tall and strikingly handsome, blond-haired man with chiselled features and a strong jawline. Jack stared at Ianto in open-mouthed shock. The Welshman was dressed in tight, black, low-rise, leather trousers that left little to the imagination, and his upper body was clad only in a snug, black, sleeveless vest. Gelled hair and a black beaded necklace completed Ianto's look. The Welshman appeared to be relaxed and entirely at ease, grinding against the other man in time to the music, his hands clinging to the man's hips and keeping him close.

Turning away, too stunned to keep watching, Jack took another mouthful of his drink. He looked up and noticed that Mickey seemed to be watching Ianto too. "Do you know him?" Jack asked, tilting his head towards the Welshman.

"Dylan?" Mickey replied. "Yeah. He's a regular here. Haven't seen him around for the last week or so though. He's always a popular guy when he's here." He grinned at Jack. "He gets plenty of action, that's for sure."

Jack nodded dumbly, still feeling shocked and not wanting to contemplate all the action that Ianto had undoubtedly seen. Mickey moved away to serve a couple of men at the other end of the bar, and with another gulp of his drink, Jack reluctantly turned back to watch Ianto again.

The blond man had pulled back a little, and his hands gripped at both sides of the bottom of Ianto's vest. He gave a small tug upwards, revealing the pale expanse of Ianto's lower abdomen. Grinning at Ianto suggestively, he waited a moment, and when Ianto gave him an encouraging nod and lifted his arms, the man peeled the vest up and off Ianto's body. He casually tucked the garment into the waistband of his jeans and then ran his hands eagerly over Ianto's glistening torso, pinching and rubbing Ianto's nipples several times before moving down to trail over his stomach. The generous endowment of dark hair covering Ianto's chest and abdomen was matted to his damp flesh, providing a stark contrast to the almost ethereal appearance of his skin under the bright, flickering lights.

Ianto was obviously revelling in the attention of the other man. He pushed against the exploring hands, his head tilted up and eyes pressed closed, losing himself in the moment. They continued to gyrate together, and the taller man pressed his palm against Ianto's crotch while the other hand settled possessively against the base of Ianto's back.

Jack continued to watch with a mixture of fascination and horror. He was mortified to realise that he was becoming aroused at the sensual sight of his lover with this other man. Even in his half-naked state, Ianto was still wearing more than some of the other men on the dance floor, but Jack couldn't tear his eyes away from the Welshman. It was taking all his self-restraint not to march over to them, grab hold of Ianto, drag him away, and remind him whom he belonged too. Except that Ianto wasn't his, and Jack wasn't sure if the person he was watching was the man he knew as Ianto Jones.

Ianto was spun around, his back pressed up against the taller man as he thrust against him while he continued to run his hands over Ianto's upper body. He leaned in and murmured into Ianto's ear as his hand glided down to the waistband of Ianto's trousers, popping open the buttons, and easing the leather apart to give him access. A dense thatch of dark hair was unveiled, putting the Welshman even more lewdly on display. The other man's hand pushed inside the opening and explored with insistent fingers. Ianto thrust his hips forward in response, his head thrown back against the other man's shoulder, while his hands clutched at the man's hips. Jack continued to stare in morbid fascination, half-wondering if the man was going to make Ianto come right there in full view of everyone in the room.

After a minute or so, and with obvious reluctance, Ianto eased the other man's hand away and fastened himself up. The man twirled Ianto back around, his hands grasping Ianto's arse and slamming their groins together as their mouths clashed in a rough, hungry kiss. Once they'd broken apart, the Welshman tilted his head towards the main doors of the room, and said something to the taller man. He nodded eagerly in response, his features twisting into a lascivious leer, and then they left the dance floor together, their path taking them directly by the bar.

Jack continued to stare as they grew closer, his eyes instinctively roaming over the lean lines of Ianto's slick body. Ianto looked directly at Jack as they walked past, and their eyes locked. Jack felt his breath hitch, and his body tensed as he stared back into Ianto's fiery blue eyes. The younger man seemed to be sizing him up, a look of definite interest in his features, but Jack saw no hint of recognition. It was as if Ianto was looking at a total stranger. Ianto's companion took no notice of Jack, his full attention apparently consumed with his prize for the evening. The blonde's hand rested over the swell of exposed flesh at the top of Ianto's not quite fully covered backside, his fingers curled and pushed luridly beneath the stretch of tight leather.

Jack slumped despondently against the bar and tossed back the rest of his drink as he watched the two men leave the room. After witnessing the younger man's reaction to seeing him, Jack knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that the man he'd just been watching wasn't Ianto. He was just a program unit like everyone else in this counterfeit world.

Jack's disturbing suspicions were confirmed. The man who had been masquerading as Ianto was a person somewhere out in the real world, and he'd been downloading his consciousness into Dylan's virtual form.

Everything Jack thought he knew about Ianto Jones was a lie.


	28. Chapter 28

This chapter is really the second half of the previous one - it ended up being too long so I had to split it in half. Not a lot of story progression here, but I'll be posting the next chapter in a day or so. Thanks to everyone for continuing to read and support this story. Special thanks as always to my wonderful beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Chapter 28<strong>

Jack rose shakily to his feet and pushed himself away from the bar. Without a backwards glance, and against all reason and better judgement, he followed discreetly behind the two men. He watched them reach the entrance area, and then descend a dark flight of stairs off to one side. As Jack reached the top of the stairs, he saw the blond man pull open a heavy metal door. The two of them moved quickly inside, the door swinging shut behind them with a harsh, resonating clang.

Jack paused in hesitation. He knew that the wisest course of action would be to turn around and walk away. He told himself that what he was about to witness would only cause him further pain. However, he had nothing left to lose, and with his concept of reality shattered, the ugly truth about Ianto and Dylan seemed almost inconsequential.

After cursing several times and momentarily wishing he'd never met Ianto Jones, he sighed in resignation and negotiated his way down the stairs. Taking a deep breath, and resolutely pulling the door open, he slipped inside, easing the door closed behind him.

With a barely suppressed gasp of astonishment, Jack found himself in the sprawling, dungeon-like room he'd seen in his dreams. Not wanting to consider the implications of the discovery, he gazed carefully around the shadowy space. The floor was bare concrete, with thick grey support pillars punctuating the space. The entire area was divided up into a series of small, open-ended alcoves along one long wall, partitioned by thick dark grey, painted brick walls. The opposite wall was divided up into larger spaces. The room was mostly empty, but the air felt thick and cloying, and a few of the alcoves were occupied by groups of either two or three men in the throes of various sexual activities. Jack tried to ignore the sights and sounds as he made his way surreptitiously down the length of the room. Concealing himself in the dark space behind one of the pillars, he peered across at the alcove currently occupied by Dylan and his companion.

Dylan quickly pulled off his boots and then stripped off his trousers, dropping them unceremoniously to the floor. He trailed his hands down his torso and started to stroke himself. The taller man gazed over Dylan's naked body appreciatively, a salacious grin spreading across his handsome face. He proceeded to pull off his dark grey shirt, revealing a broad, smooth, muscular torso. He dropped the shirt to the floor along with Dylan's vest, which he'd still had tucked into his jeans. Then he grabbed hold of Dylan, pushing his hand out of the way and replacing it with his own, before forcing their mouths together in a hard, frantic kiss. Dylan's hands worked deftly at the man's jeans, unfastening them and pushing them down until they fell to his ankles. They continued to kiss fiercely, Dylan's hand working insistently until the other man was fully erect. The blond man pulled back slightly as he casually kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans.

Jack was frozen in place as he watched, overwhelmed by despair and jealously. Yet he couldn't manage to tear his eyes away. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't really Ianto, that the man he thought he'd known and become so enamoured with – Ianto's consciousness, everything that made him who he was – wasn't actually present inside the all too familiar physical form.

The men continued to kiss and grind against each other, their hands exploring relentlessly, stroking and grasping at bare flesh. Eventually they broke apart, and the man turned Dylan around, pushing him hard up against the wall. He reached down to his discarded jeans and fumbled for a moment, then pushed a pair of lubricated fingers into Dylan's entrance, hastily working to stretch him open. Groaning loudly, Dylan braced himself against the wall with splayed hands, his legs spread wide as he thrust backwards into the probing fingers.

The man quickly prepared himself and then grabbed hold of Dylan's hips. "Ready?" he said into Dylan's ear as he leaned in close.

Dylan nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Fuck me," he growled in thick Welsh tones, the voice achingly familiar and yet noticeably different. "Hard... as hard as you can."

That was all the encouragement the other man needed. He lined himself up and surged forward, brutally impaling Dylan with his hard and impressively-sized shaft. Dylan cried out incoherently, and Jack wasn't sure for a moment if it was out of pleasure, pain, or both. The man set a punishing pace, and they both moaned loudly as he pounded furiously into the Welshman. Dylan held himself in place, his head bowed and his eyes closed, murmuring encouragement, pleading with the man to push deeper, to keep giving him more.

For Jack, this seemed to continue for an eternity, but finally the taller man threw his head back, and with a final violent thrust forward, he gasped and shuddered through his release. Breathing hard, he collapsed against Dylan's back.

He took a moment to recover, and then, pulling Dylan with him, he flipped them around, leaning into the wall so that Dylan was facing outwards and resting against him. Jack suddenly had an unobstructed view of the Welshman's body. The man grabbed hold of Dylan's leaking erection, fisting roughly while his other hand roamed over Dylan's sweat-soaked chest. Dylan continued to mutter encouragement as he thrust his hips to meet the other man's strokes. His head rested back on the man's broad shoulder, his face flushed, and his eyes pressed closed. With a loud heaving groan, Dylan trembled and arched upwards, spurting his release over his torso in several powerful bursts, and then slumped back against the other man's body.

They stayed like that for a minute or two, both gasping for breath. The blond man pulled out, leaving Dylan to lean listlessly against the wall, drenched in sweat and splatted with his own semen. Tossing his condom into a nearby bin, the taller man quickly dressed. He murmured something to Dylan, who grinned up at him in response and nodded. He gave the Welshman a final bruising kiss, and then strode off towards the door.

Jack turned away and leaned into the hard concrete support behind him. Closing his eyes, he tried to subdue his raging turmoil of emotions.

"Enjoy the show?" Dylan's heavy Welsh accent asked, causing Jack's eyes to spring open in surprise.

Dylan was standing in front of him, an eyebrow raised questioningly. He was dressed only in his tight trousers, the front unfastened, suggestively presenting himself.

"No, I…" Jack began and then stopped awkwardly, having no idea what to say in his defence.

He swallowed hard as he tried desperately to keep his eyes focused firmly on Dylan's face. That was proving to be rather difficult with the familiar body standing so close, seeming to be almost challenging him; the sight and scent of the man teasing at Jack's senses, burning at his resolve. He frantically wondered what he should say to explain his presence that wouldn't make him seem like some sort of voyeuristic deviant.

"You could have joined in," Dylan added lightly, looking Jack up and down appreciatively. "Always room for one more."

Jack shook his head, trying to ignore the images the suggestion conjured up in his mind. "I'm sorry," he tried again. "I saw you dancing upstairs. You... ah... you remind me of someone I know." He attempted an apologetic smile. "I shouldn't have followed you down here."

Dylan shrugged, not seeming to be particularly concerned. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his brow furrowed as he continued to stare at Jack. "You seem familiar," he observed. "Have we…" he began but shook his head in confusion. "No… I'd definitely remember you."

"No, we've never met before," Jack replied hurriedly, shaking his head. "I've just got one of those faces. I get that a lot."

Dylan stared hard at him for a moment longer, but then his expression cleared, and he seemed to accept Jack's explanation. "Well, you're here now," he said as he reached forward and pressed the palm of his hand firmly against Jack's crotch. "Might as well enjoy yourself."

Jack stifled a groan, his body betraying him as it responded to the insistent fingers. He stared longingly at Dylan's body, and he couldn't help reaching forward to trail his hand over the younger man's chest, pausing to rub his thumb over a firm nipple.

Dylan smiled and leaned in closer as he continued to stroke Jack through his jeans. "Do you want to fuck me?" he asked in a deep, teasing voice. "You've seen how I like it. You can pound me into the wall as hard as you like."

Dylan's nearness was overwhelming Jack's senses. For a moment, his resolve wavered, temptation overriding every rational thought. He wanted to do precisely what Dylan had just suggested. He imagined taking what was on offer and losing himself completely, pounding into the other man with animalistic intent... just fucking away all the pain, confusion, hurt, and despair. The desire was almost overpowering. This wasn't actually Ianto, he attempted to reason with himself. None of this was real, so it wasn't as if anything he did actually mattered.

But just as his resolve was about to crumble, he firmly pushed Dylan's hand away, shaking his head. He stepped to the side and then backwards, creating some distance between them. "I can't. I... I need to go."

Dylan looked at Jack in astonishment, his eyes narrowing again, scrutinising Jack, as if he was trying to work out what could possibly be wrong with him. Jack idly wondered if it was the first time that Ianto – no, this wasn't Ianto, he had to remind himself again – that Dylan had ever been turned down.

"Sorry," Jack added awkwardly, and then turned on his heels and quickly made his way across to the door.

Jack hurried up the stairs and out of the club. The cold evening air hit his face and had the welcome effect of taking the edge off his arousal. Turning into the alleyway at the side of the building, he collapsed against the wall and took several deep breaths.

[=====]

A couple of minutes later, Dylan walked briskly out of the entrance of the club, dressed again and tugging on a dark denim jacket. He glanced up and down the street, looking unsure about which direction to take.

A dark-haired woman approached him purposefully from across the street. "Mr. Jones... Ianto!" Gwen called as she made her way closer and came to a standstill in front of him.

Gwen stared at him openly with wide-eyes, her expression one of shock as she took in his appearance.

"Sorry?" Dylan asked distractedly, looking down at her in confusion as he continued to scan his eyes over the length of the street. "Um... you must have me confused with someone else."

Gwen eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You're not Ianto Jones?" she asked cautiously, frowning at him.

"No. Never heard of him," Dylan stated firmly. "Excuse me, I have to go."

He jogged off down the street, leaving Gwen standing frozen in place, staring after him with an expression of complete bewilderment.

[=====]

Jack looked up as he heard movement at the entrance to the alleyway. He was surprised to see Dylan walking slowly towards him.

The younger man came to a stop in front of him and smiled tentatively. "I never asked you your name."

Jack looked at the other man curiously and wondered why he'd come looking for him. "It's Jack. And your Dylan, right?" The Welshman nodded. "The bartender told me," Jack explained.

Dylan looked at Jack apologetically. "I'm sorry about before. I thought... well, I thought you were just looking for a quick fuck."

"It's fine," Jack said, trying to smile reassuringly while inwardly cringing at how close they'd come to doing precisely that. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, I shouldn't have been watching you."

"Doesn't matter," Dylan said with a shrug. He looked at Jack searchingly. "You're different. You're not like the men who usually come here."

Jack chuckled wryly. "Yeah. Not really my scene."

Dylan nodded again and bit down on his lip, a small frown creasing his brow. He seemed to be deep in thought. Jack watched him cautiously, and he was abashed to realise that, despite himself, he wanted nothing more than to pull the man into his arms, kiss him senseless, and never let him go.

Dylan apparently had a similar idea. Before Jack could react, he'd moved forwards and grabbed Jack's face in his hands and began kissing him fiercely. His tongue pressed insistently at Jack's lips, and Jack found himself kissing back desperately as their tongues explored each other's mouths. Jack closed his eyes, and while Dylan's technique was a little different, a little less refined perhaps, he imagined he was kissing Ianto, and it felt almost every bit as incredible – the burning desire, the passion, the comfort, the intense longing – it was all present. Jack lost himself in the moment. He didn't care that this wasn't actually Ianto he was kissing, or that everything he knew was an illusion, or that the man he'd come to care for so deeply had been lying to him from the very beginning. He just wanted to feel some pleasure, even if just for a brief, fleeting moment. For all he knew, it could be the last time he'd ever have the chance.

They eventually broke apart, both gasping for breath. "I can't shake the feeling I know you," Dylan murmured, still breathing hard. "That we've done this before."

Jack smiled sadly. He reached up and stroked his fingers gently over Dylan's cheek. "Perhaps I remind you of someone too."

The younger man smiled back, and Jack was sure that he could see deep loneliness in his expressive, shimmering eyes. He wondered what had happened in this man's fabricated life to cause him to end up here, willingly giving his body to any man who would use him for pleasure. Jack's heart ached as he wondered if Dylan simply longed for someone to take care of him, to show him some kindness and genuine affection. If things had been different, Jack thought he would have liked to have been that person.

"We could go somewhere," Dylan suggested hesitantly. "Spend the night together? We can do anything you want?"

"I'd like that," Jack said regretfully, breathing out a weary sigh. "More than you know. But I can't. I'm sorry."

Dylan nodded, his features slipping in disappointment. "Because of the man I remind you of? Is he your boyfriend?"

"It's complicated," Jack replied, not knowing what else to say. "But yes, because of him."

"He's a lucky man," Dylan stated simply, "to have someone like you." He paused awkwardly and then rested a hand gently over Jack's crotch. "Can we just... before you go... I'd like to make you feel good. Please, Jack?"

Jack knew that he should refuse, and that he'd probably regret it later. Whatever his issues were with Ianto, it would still be a betrayal of sorts. But as he looked into Dylan's eyes and saw the pain and loneliness there, he couldn't harden his heart enough to reject him. "How about together?" Jack suggested.

Dylan smiled warmly. "Okay."

Jack rested his arms on Dylan's shoulders as the younger man gently unfastened Jack's jeans and pushed them down his thighs, along with his underwear. Jack gasped slightly as the cool air hit his bare skin. Dylan slowly stroked Jack until he was hard, and then after kissing him deeply, he pulled down his own trousers, bringing their erect lengths together and wrapping them tightly in his hand. Jack closed his eyes and thought about nothing else except the pleasure Dylan was giving him. They kissed several times as Dylan continued his slow, tandem stroking.

"God, that feels good," Jack murmured, moving his hands down the other man's back, pushing beneath his jacket and vest to caress bare skin.

"Oh, yeah," Dylan murmured, leaning in to kiss Jack again.

With a final stroke while moaning softly into each other's mouths, they shuddered and came together, spilling over Dylan's fingers. With their foreheads resting against each other, they stayed still for a long moment, both gasping for air. Reaching into his jacket, the younger man pulled out some tissues and quickly cleaned them up. He carefully fixed Jack's clothes before putting himself away and fastening up his trousers again.

"Thank you," he said quietly, giving Jack a grateful but sad smile. He lifted his hand and traced the pad of his thumb lightly over Jack's lips. "I won't see you again, will I?"

Jack tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "No, probably not," he admitted with genuine regret.

Dylan nodded, and he leaned in to kiss Jack once more, surprising Jack with his tenderness. He lingered for a moment before pulling away. "I'm happy I met you tonight... Goodbye, Jack."

Jack smiled in return, feeling his chest tighten with emotion. "Bye, Dylan," he said and watched as the other man slowly walked away.


	29. Chapter 29

The roller coaster ride begins! Enjoy! Thanks again to everyone for continuing to read and support the story. Special thanks as always to my fantastic beta Prothrombintime.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 29<strong>

Jack stood on the rooftop of the Millennium Centre. He looked up into the blanket of glimmering stars, both marvelling and repulsed by how completely calm and normal everything seemed. To anyone else, it was a perfectly unremarkable evening in Cardiff, but for Jack, his entire existence had been irrevocably shattered.

He idly wondered if there were people looking down at him from beyond the digital veil of this artificial world – laughing at how entirely helpless he was, now that he knew the true futility of his existence. Nothing he'd ever done or would go on to do would ever matter. He had no control, no genuine free will. He wasn't sure if he was even truly sentient. After all, he was nothing more than a vastly complex series of computer algorithms designed to mimic human consciousness.

_I think, therefore I am. _Jack recited the words repeatedly in his mind, but he wasn't sure if he believed them. The illusion of independent thought didn't make him real. A computer program couldn't have a soul.

He was simply a pawn in a perverted game; a rat trapped in a maze, reacting to stimuli. Perhaps even now his demise was being carefully plotted by this world's malevolent overseers. Presumably, he'd be removed in a way that would have the least impact on the environment, so as not to risk compromising its integrity. Just like John had been removed by means of a tragic but perfectly mundane, explainable event. Jack didn't care any longer. He wished they'd just pull the plug and be done with it... grant him a tiny shred of mercy and bring an end to his tortured existence.

As the despair, pain, and emptiness overwhelmed him, he moved closer to the edge of the shimmering roof. He couldn't continue with the knowledge he now possessed. He just wanted the torment to end.

With the tips of his shoes hanging over the edge, he looked down at the concrete pavement far below. He was fairly confident that he was high enough above ground to ensure he wouldn't survive the fall. This would be his final act of defiance against his creators; his last chance to assert himself and take control of the imitation that masqueraded as his life. Just like Eugene had done in their simulated world.

A hysterical laugh caught in his throat at the thought. It would take so little effort. Surely it couldn't be this easy in the end, not after everything he'd been through. All he had to do was lean forward slightly, and gravity would do the rest. There would be a moment of blinding pain, and then he'd fade away into the darkness. He would merely cease to exist. There would be no afterlife. With his virtual consciousness terminated, his program would be purged from the system, and a simple lifeless prop left behind. He'd be buried or cremated and then the prop would be deleted as well. All he had to do was edge forward a little further...

Suddenly his phone rang, startlingly him with its shrill, insistent tone. His body wavered for a heart-stopping moment, the unexpected intrusion almost sending him toppling over and plummeting to the ground. Stumbling backwards, he cursed loudly as he struggled to extract the phone from his jacket pocket with trembling fingers.

"Hello," he mumbled as he brought the handset up to his ear.

"_Jack! Are you all right?"_

Jack felt his heart clench as Ianto's familiar voice greeted him. It was unmistakeably Ianto, the refined Welsh accent distinctly different to Dylan's thicker, slightly harsher tones. "I know the truth, Ianto," he said brokenly. "I know the truth about everything."

"_Where are you?"_

Ianto's voice was insistent and concerned. Jack didn't see any point in lying to him. "The roof of the Millennium Centre. I suppose you could say I'm at the edge of the world."

"_Jack, no! Please... don't do anything. Just meet with me? At your apartment? I'll explain, I promise."_

Jack didn't respond. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Ianto again. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. Not after meeting Dylan, and discovering that Ianto had deceived him from the very beginning of their unusual relationship. Any chance they might have had for even a tiny sliver of happiness together had been irrefutably ripped apart. Not that the chance had ever truly existed in the first place, he now realised.

"_Jack?"_

He sighed deeply. He supposed he might as well hear what Ianto had to say for himself. The roof wasn't going anywhere. He'd see Ianto one last time and then come back.

"All right," he finally agreed.

"_I'll be there soon."_

Disconnecting the call, Jack roughly shoved the phone back into his pocket. He continued to stand there for several more minutes, remaining motionless as he looked out wistfully over the world. He struggled to comprehend how his entire existence could change so profoundly within such a short period of time. He couldn't recall a time when this wasn't everything; a time when the pain wasn't so constant and all-consuming that it felt like it was all he'd ever known.

The cold wind whipped around him, and he tried to distract himself by concentrating on the feel of the air biting at his already chilled skin. He hadn't realised how cold he was from standing there for so long.

Finally, and reluctantly, he turned around and left the rooftop behind.

Deciding to leave his car where he'd parked it at the Hub, Jack proceeded to his apartment on foot. Hearing Ianto's voice again had infused him with a sense of indignant fury. He thought back over all the moments they'd shared, recalling every instance where Ianto had outright lied, supplied vague half-truths, or deceived him by careful omission. The Welshman had played him for a fool, with apparent effortlessness and lack of conscience.

Jack's anger, bitterness, and hurt intensified as he continued to walk briskly through the cold, dark streets. He had almost deluded himself into thinking that he'd found something special with Ianto... something he'd wanted all his life but had never been able to find. He supposed bitterly that there was a strange, twisted irony in that – the person he'd been waiting for didn't even belong in his world. From Jack's skewed perspective, the person he'd known as Ianto Jones was less real than Jack himself.

Entering the apartment, Jack kicked off his shoes and moved through to the living area. The lights were on, and he wasn't particularly surprised to find Ianto waiting for him, pacing anxiously. The younger man looked up sharply as Jack appeared, his features etched with a mixture of fear and distress. He was still dressed as Jack had last seen him at the club, the only subtle difference being that he'd removed the beaded necklace.

"Jack!" Ianto exclaimed, the relief evident in his voice.

As Ianto moved towards him, something deep inside Jack snapped. Seeing Ianto standing there in his home, still dressed as Dylan, was tangible proof of the full extent of the Welshman's duplicity. It was also a brutal reminder that Jack, Dylan, and everyone else in their world were merely puppets – play things for the people above in the real world.

Jack felt a surge of adrenaline course through his body as his rage boiled to the surface, overriding all restraint and rationality. "You deceitful fucking bastard!" he snarled.

He swung violently at Ianto, his fist connecting hard with the other man's jaw. Ianto's head whipped around from the impact and he stumbled backwards, his legs hitting the edge of the sofa. But he recovered quickly and managed to retain his balance. He lifted his hand, gingerly touching his mouth where a trickle of blood had started to trail down the side of his chin. Ianto looked down at the blood on his fingers and then gazed up at Jack with an expression of fearful astonishment.

Glaring fiercely at the other man, Jack clenched his fists at his sides, his body rippling with tension as he took several deep breaths. Ianto continued to stare at him for a long moment, and then, looking resigned but determined, he planted himself in front of Jack. Raising his chin, he looked steadily into Jack's eyes as if he was waiting for the next onslaught... ready to accept punishment for his actions by whatever means Jack saw fit to deliver. If Jack had felt more rational, he would have been deeply impressed by the younger man's courage and tenacious resolve.

Some part of Jack registered horror at what he'd just done, and yet, another more primal part wanted to strike out at Ianto again. Then almost as quickly as his anger had taken over, it began to dissipate, replaced by the now familiar sense of overwhelming despair. He pushed roughly past Ianto and collapsed onto the sofa, burying his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Ianto said quietly, a long, tense moment later. He was still standing near the sofa as he looked down at Jack sadly. "I never wanted it to come to this."

Jack didn't look up or respond. He didn't want to hear Ianto's apologies or excuses. It was far too late for that.

"When I called you," Ianto continued tentatively. "Were you really going to jump?"

Jack lifted his head and glanced up at him. "I've got nothing left to lose," he said coldly with a nonchalant shrug.

Ianto shook his head. "There's always something left to lose, Jack." He paused, and Jack looked away again. "What about me? Us? Did you even think about that? If I had phoned even a minute later, would it have been too late?" Ianto's tone shifted from hurt to anger as he reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck in frustration. He moved to stand in front of Jack. "Would I have found you splattered over the ground instead?"

"There is no _us_," Jack retorted bitterly. "There never was."

Ianto sighed and cautiously sat down next to him. "That's not true," he said quietly but insistently.

Jack didn't have a response to that, so he remained silent. He could hear the deep hurt in Ianto's voice, and he knew that he was being somewhat cruel, but he didn't know what Ianto expected him to say.

"I know you met him tonight..." Ianto said hesitantly. "My program unit... Dylan. You were at the club with him. Did... erm..." He paused awkwardly and cleared his throat. "Did anything happen between the two of you?"

Jack looked up sharply. "Under the circumstances, do you really think you have the right to ask me that?" he questioned challengingly.

"No, I suppose not," Ianto agreed, but he didn't sound happy about it. "Did you see him with any other men?" He pressed his eyes closed as if attempting to push away some unpleasant mental images. "Well, obviously I can tell he was with someone. I know he likes it rough."

"Just one man," Jack replied brusquely. "A tall, blond guy."

Ianto sighed again. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Jack didn't want to think about the ways in which the body that Ianto inhabited, and that Jack had so deeply revered and taken pleasure in, had been used and probably abused. "It's not your fault," he allowed.

Jack stared down at his hands. Now that the anger had passed and acceptance had once again begun to take hold, there were still so many questions racing around in his mind. As much as he thought he already knew, he wanted the remaining answers. "How many worlds are there like this?" he asked cautiously.

"Hundreds," Ianto replied as he slumped back against the sofa, resting his hands over his knees. "This is one of the first though, and it's one of the largest and most sophisticated. It's the only world where a simulation was created within the simulation. That was something we never anticipated."

"And John found out the truth, so he had to be removed." Jack took a deep breath and tried to summon the courage to ask his next question. "I killed him didn't I?" he asked, his voice breaking as he felt his eyes fill with tears. "I must have told him to meet me at that bar, and then I led him out the back, and I stabbed him to death."

Ianto's features twisted with pain as he nodded slowly. "It wasn't you, Jack. It was your user. He downloaded into you and killed John."

Jack rubbed roughly at his eyes. He could try to rationalise that it wasn't him who'd killed John, but as he glanced down at his hands, knowing what they'd done, he felt physically ill. "And the nightmares?" he asked reluctantly. "Everything I've been seeing in my dreams?"

"Yes. It was all him," Ianto acknowledged. "He's a psychopath. He enjoys killing."

Jack shuddered violently. He wondered how many other people – no, not people... just program units – had been killed at his hands. That was one question he knew he didn't have the courage to ask. "What about John Hart... the guy who threatened us?"

Ianto nodded again. "I followed you that night. I needed to make sure you were okay. I watched you... him... kill Hart." He started to reach towards Jack's hand but then quickly pulled back. "I'm sorry."

Jack just nodded mutely. They sat in awkward silence for several minutes as Jack tried to process everything that Ianto had just revealed. The remaining pieces were all beginning to slot into place.

"My condition... the tumour..." he began but broke off, not really sure what he was asking or if he actually wanted to know.

Ianto let out a deep breath and scrubbed at his face. "Honestly, Jack, I don't know. It was a shock when you told me. I had no idea. But it's possible that he did this to you... to torment you... or he might have done it to spite me... to take you away from me. He's a sadistic bastard, so it's entirely possible. Or it might just be a coincidence."

Jack looked at Ianto searchingly. "Who is he?" he asked in confusion. "Why is he doing this?"

Ianto stood up and paced for a moment, keeping his face turned away from Jack. But then he turned back, and Jack could see the deep pain in his eyes. "Remember the day at the coffee shop? I told you about the man I had been in love with." Ianto paused and looked away as his voice started to break. "It's him," he added in little more than a whisper.

Jack just stared up at Ianto in horror, stunned and completely lost for words.

"He was a good man once," Ianto continued hurriedly. "But then he started to change... he became addicted to the simulations. I can't be sure, but I think it did something to him. Awakened some latent darkness inside him maybe... or the interface process might have caused a type of psychosis. He uses this world as his playground, to kill and to torment. He thinks he's some kind of god, and he kills indiscriminately for pleasure." Ianto paused and visibly flinched. "He gets off on making people suffer. He's clever though, good at covering his tracks. No-one knows the truth about him except me."

Jack took a deep breath and swallowed hard, his throat felt tight and constricted. "He's me isn't he? I'm a version of him?"

Ianto nodded. "You're like how he used to be. But you're a better man than he ever was, Jack. I know that without a doubt."

"Are the two of you still together?" Jack asked warily.

"No, not for a while. I never lied about that," Ianto replied firmly. "I tried to convince him to get help, but he wouldn't listen. He became cruel... abusive. He's beyond help now."

Jack shook his head in disbelief. It was a reminder that he was just a puppet in some twisted, depraved game. He stood up in agitation and faced Ianto, glaring at him.

"Why are you here, Ianto? You wanted to be some big hero? Coming here to take care of me, promising to be with me... befriending me... seducing me..." A remnant of Jack's earlier anger resurfaced. "Is this all just a game to you?" he shouted. "Did you program me to fall in love with you?"

Ianto stepped back, looking horrified. "Jack, no... no, of course not," he whispered. "I'd never do that. Everything you feel, Jack, it's real. What I feel for you… it's real. All of it."

Jack looked at him incredulously. "I'm not real, Ianto. I'm just a puppet without a soul."

"No!" Ianto exclaimed fiercely. "You're not. You're as real as anyone I've ever known. You discovered the truth, Jack. That's not supposed to be possible. That makes you special... you're so much more." He stepped closer again, and Jack thought he could see the deep regret in Ianto's expressive eyes. "I wanted to tell you. So many times. But how would it have made anything better? I couldn't bear to see you suffer more than you already were. And I was right, wasn't I? You were ready to kill yourself tonight. That's what finding out the truth has done to you. I couldn't do that to the man I…" He trailed off uncertainly and looked away.

"You love?" Jack finished for him, his voice filled with derision, but even as he said it, he had to admit that Ianto had made a good point about the impact of knowing the truth.

"Yes," Ianto replied simply, looking back up at him with tears in his eyes.

Jack knew that he should feel elated to hear Ianto declare his feelings for him. A part of him did, but he hadn't wanted to hear it like this. Jack was nothing more than a cheap imitation of the man Ianto had once loved. All his feelings of familiarity with Ianto were residual imprints; traces of memories left in his psyche by his real-world, and apparently psychotic, counterpart.

"Ianto, this is insane," he said, not entirely unkindly. "Surely you realise that?"

If Ianto was affronted, he didn't show it. He stepped closer to Jack. "Maybe it is," he replied steadily. "I just want to be with you. Is that so terrible, Jack?"

No, Jack thought, it wasn't terrible. He couldn't condemn Ianto for his feelings. He actually admired the Welshman's conviction. Love couldn't be rationalised. He himself was proof of that. Jack had never considered in his wildest imaginings that he'd fall in love with another man, but it had happened all the same.

"So, what was the plan?" he asked curiously. "How were you going to have a relationship with someone who isn't real? You can't spend your life inside a simulation."

Ianto didn't immediately respond. He looked at Jack worriedly. "I've been working on finding a way to fix your condition," he began. "I was going to figure out a way to make sure he'd leave us alone. If I could find a way to expose him, he wouldn't be a threat anymore. If I could do all of that, and once I was sure you wanted to be with me... that you wanted us to have a life together... I was going to permanently transfer my consciousness into this world."

Jack reeled back in shock. "What? No, Ianto... I can't believe you ever considered that."

Ianto shrugged. "It was the only way it could work in the long-term. As long as I have a body to maintain in the other world, I'm limited in how much time I can spend here. If I transferred myself permanently, that wouldn't be a problem. And Dylan's consciousness would be transferred into my body. He could make a new life for himself."

"You would have done that to be with me?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Yep," Ianto said, a hint of a smile gracing his features for the first time since their conversation had begun.

Jack knew that he must be as crazy as Ianto, but suddenly he didn't care. He roughly grabbed hold of the Welshman and captured his mouth in a brutal, demanding kiss, pushing his tongue forward insistently until he was granted access. Ianto was tense in his arms for a moment, but then he relaxed and wrapped himself around Jack, kissing him back with the same desperate, frantic need.

"This doesn't mean I've forgiven you," Jack said after they'd broken apart, observing the myriad of emotions in Ianto's eyes.

"Okay," Ianto replied cautiously.

Jack felt his chest tighten. "But I can accept that you were trying to do what you thought was best... that you were trying to protect me. I respect that."

"Thank you," Ianto said sincerely.

"Come on," Jack said, tugging on Ianto's hand.

Ianto looked at him questioningly but then nodded. He gazed down at himself disdainfully and pulled a face. "I really need a shower first."

"Sure," Jack agreed. "As long as I can join you."

It was some time later when Jack collapsed onto the bed, Ianto pressed up against him as they both gasped for breath. He'd taken Ianto hard, consumed by a desperate need to stake his claim, wanting to leave no doubt that Ianto was his, even if just for this one night. He didn't know what was going to happen. He wasn't sure if he'd be around to see another day, and he still didn't know if he even wanted to be. But if this was to be their final time together, at least they'd made the most of it.

Ianto had seemed to understand Jack's need, and he'd encouraged Jack not to be gentle. Ianto had come apart beneath him, writhing and clutching at Jack, groaning out Jack's name with awe and adoration as he begged him to push deeper and thrust harder. Jack didn't doubt for a moment that Ianto had thoroughly enjoyed their vigorous coupling. He suspected, and hoped, that Ianto had needed it with the same desperation that he had – that Ianto had needed to reaffirm himself with Jack, to reassure Jack that what they shared was real to him.

Pulling Ianto into his arms, Jack kissed him passionately. As dire and hopeless as the circumstances were, with no more secrets between them, and having admitted the depth of their feelings for each other, neither one of them had held anything back. With their emotions raw and unrestrained, the experience had been primal and intense, yet it had somehow retained the underlying intimacy and tenderness they'd always shared.

Jack stroked his fingers gently over Ianto's cheek as he intently studied his beautiful features, trying to memorise every detail before it was too late. Ianto smiled softly, and leaning in, he pressed a lingering kiss against Jack's lips. Jack settled his head on Ianto's chest and listened to the steady, comforting beat of his heart. Ianto's arms encircled him protectively, and wrapped tightly around one another, they drifted into an exhausted sleep.

A short while later, Jack's eyes blinked open, and he turned on his side to look at Ianto's sleeping form. His features twisted into a malevolent grin. Pushing himself up, he reached down to Ianto's groin and squeezed firmly.

"Hmm... Jack?" Ianto murmured as he opened his eyes and looked blearily up at the other man.

"Guess again," Jack said tauntingly, his eyes burning with dark intent. "Hello, Ianto. Did you miss me?"

Ianto's expression filled with dread as Jack's maliciously smiling face stared down at him. "Jason," he whispered with fear in his voice.


	30. Chapter 30

Here we go, the penultimate chapter! Enjoy! Thanks as always to my amazing and talented beta Prothrombintime.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30<strong>

Ianto pulled away from Jason and scrambled off the bed, his hands cupped protectively over his crotch. He backed up several paces as he glared warily at the other man. Jason watched him with the corners of his mouth upturned in amusement, the soft glow of the bedside lamp highlighting the sinister intent in his cold, malignant features.

Reaching down to the floor next to his bag, Ianto grabbed the leather trousers he'd discarded earlier, and turning away, he awkwardly pulled them on. After fastening them up, he quickly picked up his black vest and slipped it over his torso, tugging it down firmly so it met with his waistband, covering as much of himself as possible.

In contrast, Jason had thrown off the bed covers and sprawled out over the bed, placing his body lewdly on display. He reached down and began to idly stroke himself. Momentarily moving his eyes away from Ianto, he looked down at his naked body and traced a hand over his stomach with a look of disdain. "Hmm, I think I'll have to start taking Jackie boy to the gym," he observed derisively. "He's getting a bit chubby."

"What are you doing here, Jason?" Ianto demanded tersely, holding himself up to his full height, his bare arms held tensely at his sides.

"Thought I'd see what you're up to," Jason replied lazily. His eyes trailed lecherously down the length of Ianto's body. "Nice outfit by the way. It suits you." He paused and smiled cruelly. "That Dylan can't get enough, can he? The only time he's happy is when he's got a cock shoved deep up his arse." His smile widened. "Just like you."

"You sick, sadistic bastard," Ianto muttered, his eyes narrowed.

"You've been spending a lot of time here," Jason continued conversationally, ignoring Ianto's retort. "So tell me, Ianto... what's so special about him? Why settle for this when you can have the real thing?"

"I'm not settling," Ianto retaliated sharply. "In case you've forgotten, I left you. You don't have any claim over me. We were over a long time ago, Jason. You're sick, you need help."

Jason leapt up from the bed, and in a swift movement, he had one hand wrapped around the back of Ianto's neck while the other roughly gripped his chin. "There's nothing wrong with me," he growled as he leaned in closer. "You're mine," he hissed, his eyes blazing with fury as he tightened his grip. "That's never going to change."

"Get off me," Ianto ground out, shoving forcefully at Jason's chest with both hands.

Jason stumbled back slightly, releasing his grip. Recovering quickly, he surged forward again and viciously pushed his hands against Ianto's shoulders. The sudden impact sent the younger man reeling backwards. He collided hard against the wall directly behind him with a loud thud, the back of his head connecting with the hard surface. Ianto groaned in pain. Jason kicked Ianto's legs out from under him, and he crumpled to the floor.

Jason looked down at Ianto with malevolent glee. A flicker of fear passed across Ianto's face as he stared up at the other man. "You're insane," he spat fiercely as he determinedly pushed himself upright, using the wall for support. "You've lost your mind."

Jason looked at him pityingly. "I'm not the one who's in love with a fucking simulation," he said, his voice filled with contempt.

"He reminds me of you," Ianto stated softly, looking at Jason with sorrow. "The way you used to be... the man I wanted to spend my life with."

Jason tensed, and his mouth turned into a derisive leer. "He's nothing more than a cheap imitation... an inferior copy," he retorted angrily.

Ianto shook his head adamantly. "That's not true. Jack's a better man than you ever were."

Jason's features twisted in rage, and he launched his fist at Ianto. The younger man, however, had anticipated the move. He dropped to his knees, leaving Jason's fist to slam into the wall with a sickening crunch. As Jason pulled back, clutching his hand in pain, Ianto kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him sprawling backwards to land in a heap against the side of the bed.

Ianto reached down into his bag. A moment later, a loud click echoed in the room, and Jason had the barrel of a compact semi-automatic pistol pointed at his forehead. Ianto was staring at him coldly, his jaw clenched with determination, and his eyes flashing with deadly intent.

A look of astonishment passed over Jason's features, but then he started to laugh. He eased himself into an upright sitting position, while Ianto kept the gun pressed to his skull. "You haven't got the balls to shoot me," he taunted. "Even if you did, all you'll do is kill your precious Jack."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

The laughter died on Jason's lips, and he suddenly looked worried. "What have you done?" he demanded.

Ianto shrugged slightly. "Only what I had to."

"Do it then," Jason challenged, staring up into Ianto's eyes defiantly. "Put a bullet through Jack's head."

Ianto continued to stare at Jason, a myriad of emotions playing across his features. His expression hardened, and his finger started to tighten around the trigger. Jason continued to look at him mockingly.

Just when it seemed that Ianto was about to pull the trigger, his hand started to tremble, and his expression of fierce determination was replaced with defeat.

"I can't," Ianto murmured and stepped back as he lowered the gun to his side. He reached up with his other hand and rubbed it roughly over his face. "I can't do it," he reiterated in barely a whisper.

Jason was on his feet again, and in a flurry of movement, he tore the gun from Ianto's hand, sending it flying across the carpeted floor. Before Ianto could react, Jason spun him around, throwing him face first into the wall and pinning his arms behind his back. Ianto screamed out and struggled against him as the side of his face was pressed hard against the wall.

"You always were a coward," Jason growled. "Sometimes I wonder what I ever saw in you. Anyway, I think it's time for you to be reminded of who you really belong to."

Reaching around, Jason roughly unfastened Ianto's trousers, pulling them down his thighs. Ianto bucked against him, trying to break free of his grip. "Stop struggling," Jason hissed. "You know you want it. Just pretend it's him fucking you." He pressed closer and lowered his voice. "If it was him, you'd be begging for it, wouldn't you? You'd be begging him to fuck you senseless. Just like you used to beg me."

"No! Get the hell off me," Ianto yelled.

Ianto managed to pull his right hand free, but Jason quickly grabbed it again and clamped it against the wall above Ianto's head. He wrenched Ianto's left arm back, pulling on it savagely, while twisting Ianto's wrist. Ianto screamed out in pain but Jason didn't relent. There was a horrible cracking sound as the bones in Ianto's forearm fractured. Ianto screamed out in pain.

"You're a monster," Ianto whimpered, choking back a sob as Jason released the broken arm, letting it fall uselessly to Ianto's side.

Jason held him firmly against the wall, his breath ghosting over Ianto's neck. He leaned in closer and whispered into Ianto's ear. "Keep struggling, and I'll break your other arm."

Ianto stopped resisting, and he slumped resignedly against the wall. "Just do it then," he ground out through clenched teeth as he gasped for breath. "It doesn't matter what you do to me, it won't change anything."

Jason licked his tongue along the back of Ianto's ear, trailing down to his shoulder. He bit down hard on the pale flesh, producing a fierce red mark. "Hmm... we'll see about that. Maybe now that Jack knows the truth about you, he won't find you quite so appealing."

Jason stroked himself several times with his free hand, and then lined himself up. Moving his hand up, he wrapped it firmly around the back of Ianto's neck, holding him still. He was just beginning to push forward when Ianto suddenly pivoted, thrusting his hips up and back as he wrenched his right arm free with a heavy grunt, sending his elbow viciously into Jason's chest. With the element of surprise on his side, he swivelled around and slammed his knee into Jason's groin. Screaming out in pain, Jason clutched at his genitals and fell back onto the bed, cursing violently.

Ianto awkwardly pulled up and re-fastened his trousers with his right hand, cradling his broken arm against his torso. He hesitated briefly, his eyes scanning around the floor, looking for his gun, but as Jason began to struggle back to his feet, he turned and bolted from the room.

"Fucking coward! Get back here you bastard," Jason yelled after him.

Hastily pulling on the jeans and shirt that Jack had discarded on the floor earlier in the evening, Jason grabbed Ianto's gun from where it had landed in the far corner of the room. He smiled vindictively. "I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer, Ianto Jones."

With a murderous glint in his eyes, he took off in pursuit.

[=====]

Ianto ran down the wide hallway and stabbed at the button next to the lift doors. He looked frantically back towards the door of Jack's apartment. "Come on, hurry up," he muttered under his breath.

Finally the doors opened, and Ianto rushed forwards just as Jason appeared, brandishing the gun. Ianto hit the button for the ground floor, and the doors began to glide closed as Jason came into view on the other side of the narrowing gap, his features contorted with rage. Their eyes met for an instant. Then the doors sealed, and the lift began to descend.

Ianto collapsed against the rear wall with a gasp. He attempted to move his injured arm but immediately hissed with pain. Pressing his eyes closed, he took a deep breath and held it against his body.

The doors opened, and Ianto raced out, moving purposely towards the entrance door. He was halfway there when Jason appeared at the stairwell exit opposite the lift. He ran forward, shouting out Ianto's name along with a string of obscenities, but the younger man didn't look back.

A shot rang out in the silence. The bullet tore into Ianto's right leg, and he let out a startled cry as his leg collapsed under him, sending him sprawling forward. He landed heavily on the hard, tiled floor, groaning loudly as he managed to turn around onto his back.

Ianto stared down in shock at the blood seeping from his thigh and pooling on the floor beneath him. "Shit," he mumbled, followed by another agonised groan.

Within moments, Jason was upon him, straddling his hips and wrapping his hands around Ianto's throat. "You can't get away from me," he hissed, his eyes wild and consumed with madness as he tightened his hold. "This has gone on long enough. If you're not mine, then you won't be anyone else's either."

Ianto struggled against the greater strength of the other man, but his one uninjured arm wasn't enough to defend himself against Jason's rage-fuelled attack. Ianto's eyes were wide and fearful as he desperately tried to draw oxygen through his constricted airway.

Just as Ianto was flagging and on the verge of losing consciousness, an insistent banging against the entry door echoed in the otherwise quiet space. Startled, Jason turned to look as several shots were fired, and the glass door shattered, sending a rain of sparkling fragments across the tiled floor.

"Let him go. Right now!" Gwen Cooper shouted as she stepped through the broken doorway, her gun aimed unwaveringly at Jason's back.

Jason nodded, and releasing his grip on Ianto's throat, he began to lift his hands in surrender. As he did so, he smiled arrogantly down at Ianto. The younger man's eyes settled on the gun tucked into the front of Jason's jeans. "No!" he choked out hoarsely. He tried to reach for the gun with his good arm but it was already too late.

In a swift action, Jason grabbed the gun, flipped himself off Ianto, rotated so he was facing Gwen, and rolled his body across the floor. Then he took aim at Gwen and pulled the trigger. Gwen had attempted to recover from the unexpected move, and she fired to defend herself, but the shot went wide. Jason's bullet ripped into her right arm, causing her gun to drop to the floor with a sharp clatter. She cried out in shock and clutched at the wound with her other hand.

Jason got to his feet and stalked towards her, keeping the gun trained on her the entire time.

She stared at him in horror. "You're not Jack, are you?" she asked quietly, her voice wavering.

Jason kicked her gun away as he reached her. "Well, Detective, you must be a hell of a lot smarter than you look."

"Why are you doing this?" Gwen asked desperately, her face contorted with pain.

Jason shrugged and looked at her as if she'd asked the most obvious question in the world. "Because I can... because I enjoy it. It's fun. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

Gwen shook her head. "No. I don't understand. And you won't get away with this. You can't kill both of us and expect to escape."

"You really have no idea do you?" Jason retorted disdainfully. "This is _my_ world. I can do whatever the hell I want. There's nothing you can do to stop me."

Gwen looked at him in disbelief. "You're insane."

Jason dropped the gun and punched Gwen viciously across the jaw, causing her to fall to the ground. With a follow up kick to her side, she gasped and tried to push herself away. Grabbing her scrambling legs, Jason pulled her back towards him. He straddled her hips, and wrapped his hands around her throat, pressing her down with his more substantial weight.

Gwen thrashed violently, her hands futilely grappling and clawing at him. Jason simply grinned and continued slowly choking her.

"Leave her alone!" Ianto shouted, his voice raspy but loud and determined.

Jason looked up with surprise. Ianto was standing in front of him, propped up on his uninjured leg, with Gwen's gun aimed directly at Jason. "I won't make the same mistake twice, Jason. This ends now."

Jason sneered at him. "I'm just having some fun. She's not real, so what does it matter?"

Dismissing Ianto, he looked back down at Gwen and tightened his grip around her throat as she continued to struggle valiantly.

Ianto took a deep breath, and then narrowing his eyes, he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Jason in the shoulder. He flinched with the impact, and looked up at Ianto in shock, but he didn't relinquish his grip. "Nice try, Ianto, but you've got lousy aim. You always were a crap shot."

"I was aiming for your shoulder," Ianto muttered to himself. "Last chance, Jason," he called out. "Let her go now, or I put an end to your miserable existence."

Jason laughed manically. "You think you're suddenly some big damn hero, huh, Ianto? The only problem is that I know the truth about you. I know you haven't got what it takes."

Jason smiled back down at Gwen and tightened his hold once more. She was still struggling against him, but it was obvious that her strength was almost depleted.

Ianto stared for a brief moment, a look of despair washing over his features. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "But you've given me no choice."

Ianto squared his shoulders and took aim. Then he pulled the trigger.

Jason's head snapped back, his eyes wide as his body fell backwards and hit the floor. Gwen managed to scramble out from under him, clutching at her throat as she desperately gasped for air. She crawled back until she was level with Ianto. The gun slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a resounding thunk, as he stared at the scene in front of him. Ianto's face was frozen in an expression of horror, his body held tense and immobile.

It was several long moments later before Ianto seemed to recover. He turned and helped Gwen to her feet. "Are you okay?"

Gwen nodded. "Yeah," she managed to reply in a rasping whisper. "I think so. Thanks."

Ianto gave her a weary ghost of a smile. "It's over now," he said quietly.

Gwen stared at him for moment, rubbing at her throat and continuing to breath heavily. "Is it true?" she asked tentatively, her voice stronger but still hoarse. "None of this is real? It's all just one of your simulations?"

"Yes," Ianto replied simply. "But I'll fix things when I get back. You won't remember any of this. It's... well, it's better that way."

"Good," Gwen said firmly. She shrugged slightly when Ianto looked at her in surprise. "I was happy before... when I didn't know any different. I'd like to be happy again. And you know what they say... ignorance is bliss."

"Very true," Ianto agreed. "Sometimes we forget that." He gave her a sad half-smile. "Thank you, Gwen," he added gratefully.

Ianto limped over to Jason's still body. He looked down into the wide, dull, unseeing eyes. The smooth expanse of his forehead was punctuated by a perfectly centred bullet hole. Ianto collapsed down onto the floor and wrapped a lifeless hand in his own. A thick tear trailed down his cheek.

"Goodbye," Ianto whispered as his voice broke and his eyes welled up. The solitary tear was soon joined by several more. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."


	31. Chapter 31

Here it is, the concluding chapter. Enjoy! But it's not over quite yet... This was originally the end of the story, but some of the feedback I received inspired me to write an epilogue which I'll be posting in a day or two.

Thank you to everyone who has read and supported this along the way. It's greatly appreciated. Thanks as always to my brilliant beta Prothrombintime. My beta also very generously created a banner to accompany the story which I've posted on my LiveJournal account. Please have a look and comment if you like it.

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><p><strong>Chapter 31<strong>

Jack woke with a start, a soft gasp of breath escaping from his lips. He felt strange and disoriented, just as he had both times when he'd entered the simulation. Except this time, surprisingly, he was completely free of pain. The only thing he felt was a slight sense of fuzziness, similar to waking up from a deep but refreshing sleep.

He gazed around with unfocused eyes, but the surroundings were unfamiliar. Blinking several times, he waited for his vision to clear, and then he glanced around again. He appeared to be in a luxurious and stylishly furnished bedroom. The room was large and relatively minimal in design, with soft lighting and warm, neutral colours. A large bed covered in a rich coffee-coloured duvet dominated the space. The majority of one wall was covered by a large expanse of what appeared to be some type of thick, black glass. It looked like a window, but it was completely opaque and non-reflective. The only natural light came from the open door, which appeared to lead to a hallway and a living space beyond.

He was lying on a comfortable, black, leather reclining chair. It was positioned to one side of the bed, and it was in the same minimalist, modern style as the rest of the furnishings. Tentatively lifting his arm, he looked curiously at his hand. He was reassured to see that it was indeed his own. He then glanced down at his clothing. His attire was a simply styled pair of light-brown trousers and a soft, loose fitting, long-sleeved, azure coloured shirt. His feet were bare.

As his awareness returned more fully, he felt a surge of panic and pushed himself upright. He had no idea where he was. He obviously wasn't in 1940's London, and this certainly wasn't his apartment in Cardiff. The last thing he remembered was being in his bedroom with Ianto. They'd been wrapped in each other's arms, claiming what he had feared would be their final moments together. He'd been on the threshold of sleep, and the next thing he knew he was waking up in this strange place.

Swinging his legs down to the floor, he realised that something was fixed firmly around his head. He reached up and carefully pulled off the device. It let out a soft beep, and he stared down at it in confusion. It looked more or less like a set of lightweight, wireless headphones, except for the pair of rounded sections at the front, which had been resting against his temples. He traced his fingers over the device in wonder. He hadn't seen anything like it before. Noticing a cradle sitting on the bedside table, he lowered the headset onto it. There was another soft beep, and an indicator light on the cradle changed from red to blue.

Jack hesitantly stood up and immediately noticed that his body felt different. It felt stronger somehow. He trailed his hand cautiously over his stomach, and was surprised at how firm the muscles felt beneath his warm skin. Moving his hand up to his face, he explored hesitantly with his fingertips. His features felt the same to his touch; the skin smooth and cleanly shaven. Proceeding to run his fingers through his hair, he found that it had the same familiar, thick texture, but it seemed to be cut slightly shorter than his usual style.

He was just about to look for a bathroom in the hope of finding a mirror, when he heard the sound of a nearby door opening and closing. It sounded loud and ominous in the otherwise still, silent space. Jack tensed, the beating of his heart pounding in his ears. Feeling vulnerable, he instinctively stepped further back into the room.

He stared anxiously at the open doorway, and then almost cried out in relief when Ianto appeared. The younger man was dressed in grey fitted trousers and a deep red shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up and the collar unbuttoned. His expression was a strange mixture of hope and anxiety as he looked at Jack. He stepped cautiously through the doorway.

Jack rushed forwards and grabbed hold of Ianto's shoulders. "Ianto! What's going on? Where are we?"

Jack could feel the tension in Ianto's body. He reluctantly released his grip and pulling back, he looked at the Welshman worriedly.

Ianto was gazing at him almost fearfully. "Jack?" he asked in little more than a whisper.

Jack nodded, puzzled by the other man's strange manner. "What happened, Ianto? The last thing I remember…"

Ianto let out a deep breath, and a look of intense relief settled over his features. "Jack," he murmured, giving him a warm but weary smile. "You made it, Jack. You're in the real world."

Any words Jack was going to say died on his lips as he stared at Ianto in complete shock, his mind reeling. He looked around at his surroundings again and then back at Ianto. "How?" he eventually managed. "I don't understand."

"Jason downloaded into you." Ianto paused and rubbed his hand gingerly over his throat. "He came after me, but… he died while he was still inside the simulation. It's a long story. But when the link disconnected, your consciousness stayed in his body."

Jack frowned and opened his mouth to ask how that was possible, but Ianto cut him off. "I disabled the fail safes."

Jack was horrified as the implications of that slotted into place in his mind. If Jason was as deranged as Ianto had described, the younger man had put himself in terrible danger. "You could have been killed," Jack said, his voice catching.

Ianto shrugged. "I knew the risks… I was pretty sure that if he had his way, one of us was going to end up dead." He gave Jack a hesitant smile. "I had a chance to save you, Jack. I wasn't giving up on you. Not for anything."

Jack shook his head in amazement. He wondered what had happened in the other world during his absence. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know about the events that had lead to Jason's death, or what Ianto's involvement had been. The thought of what Ianto may have been driven to do made him feel ill, and no matter how far gone Jason had been, Ianto had just lost the man that he had once loved.

The realisation that Jack was now inhabiting the body of a man who had become severely mentally unstable was deeply unsettling. "That was a hell of a risk to take," he said carefully. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," Ianto stated firmly. "Besides, you're worth it."

Jack wasn't entirely sure about that. Eventually, they'd have to talk about everything and deal with the emotional fallout, but he was too overwhelmed to handle any of that at the moment.

He stared intently at Ianto, struggling to comprehend the extent to which the younger man had gone in order for them to be together. Ianto had risked everything to give Jack a chance at life in the real world. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. The intensity of Ianto's feelings for him were almost frightening, but then Jack thought about what he would have done if their roles had been reversed. The answer was startlingly simple. He would have done whatever was necessary to be with the man he loved.

Ianto was looking back at him with a worried expression. Jack slowly moved forward, and reaching up, he lightly caressed his fingertips down the side of Ianto's face, tracing along his smooth jawline. "You look exactly the same," he murmured.

Ianto nodded slightly. "Not too disappointed?" he asked nervously.

"God, no," Jack whispered as he stroked his thumb gently over Ianto's cheek and smiled. "You're perfect."

Ianto's expression cleared, and the fearful look in his eyes seemed to diminish. They stared at each other for a long moment. "I don't know your real name," Jack said suddenly.

"It's the same. Ianto Jones. I used my real name in the simulation. Not very original." He paused awkwardly. "Well, it's almost my real name…"

He reached down and grasped Jack's hand. Entwining their fingers together, he raised their joined hands to rest against his chest.

Jack looked at their hands in astonishment, noticing the matching platinum rings on their fingers for the first time. "Actually, my name is Ianto Hartley-Jones."

"We're married?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Yep," Ianto confirmed. "Two years ago. Your name is Jason Hartley... Jason Hartley-Jones. But I'd like to keep calling you Jack if that's all right. At least when we're alone together." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "It suits you. But to the rest of the world, you'll have to be Jason. No-one can know the truth."

Jack nodded slowly. "That's going to take some getting used to."

His head was spinning with questions. There were so many things he needed to know. He suddenly realised that he hadn't even asked Ianto about the biggest one of all yet.

"Ianto," he began hesitantly, not sure if he wanted an answer but knowing that he needed to hear it. "Am I okay? What about the tumour?"

Ianto squeezed his hand reassuringly and then gently let it go. "As far as I know, you're in perfect health. And even if you weren't… well, medicine has advanced a lot over the last few years. The condition you had is curable here."

As Jack tried to comprehend the enormity of not facing an imminent death, another question sprang to the forefront of his mind. "What year is this? What date?"

"September fifteenth," Ianto replied. He paused and seemed to be deliberating on what to say next. "This might be a shock. The year is twenty twenty-five. We're still in Cardiff by the way, although it's changed a bit from how you knew it."

Jack continued to feel dumbstruck. He tried to process the fact that he was fifteen years in the future.

Ianto reached for his hand again and pulled him over to stand in front of the expanse of dark glass. "Here, let me show you." Ianto reached over and tapped a small panel on the bedside table.

Jack gasped as the wall of opaque glass shimmered and became perfectly transparent. Stretched out before him was a panoramic view of Cardiff Bay. The area was vast, several times bigger than what he'd known, and almost unrecognisable, although he could make out a few of the familiar landmarks, including his beloved water tower. The sky was unusually clear, with the sun shining and reflecting brilliantly off the shimming glass and metal of the numerous modern buildings. He guessed the apartment they were currently in was about four stories up, and the view was nothing short of spectacular.

Staggering over to the bed, Jack collapsed down onto it as he continued to stare out at the bewildering vista. Ianto moved closer and sat beside him, gently resting his hand on Jack's knee. "You okay?"

Jack took a steadying breath. "I can't believe it. So much has changed." He looked at Ianto searchingly. "And I'm really not dying? I've got the rest of my life ahead of me?"

Ianto nodded as he rubbed his thumb softly over Jack's thigh just above his knee.

"With you?" Jack asked as he looked into Ianto's warm blue eyes.

"Well, we are already married," Ianto said with a nervous chuckle. "Seems a shame to let that go to waste." He frowned. "If that's what you want?" he added cautiously.

Jack moved closer, and reaching up, he cradled Ianto's face in his hands. He kissed the Welshman fiercely, revelling in the feel of the soft, warm lips against his own. He was relieved when Ianto didn't hesitate to kiss him back with equal intensity. As confused and overwhelmed as he was, being with Ianto was the one thing that he had absolutely no doubts about.

They pulled apart, both slightly breathless. "Does that answer your question?" Jack said with a smile, remembering the last time he'd said those words.

"It's not a bad start," Ianto acknowledged, a playful glimmer in his eyes. He paused, and his expression became pensive. "Jack… I know you don't have any reason to trust me. I need to earn your trust. But I meant what I said..." He broke off and turned away as his voice grew thick with emotion.

Jack wasn't sure what to say. He understood Ianto's reasons for his actions, and he knew that Ianto regretted having to deceive him, even if it had been necessary. Ianto had been trying to protect him, but Jack couldn't simply forget that the younger man had deceived him repeatedly. More disturbingly, he'd managed to do it with frighteningly little difficulty. While Jack was certain that he wanted a future with Ianto, it wasn't exactly a solid foundation on which to build a long-term relationship.

Ianto looked back up at him. "I would have spent every minute I could for the rest of my life in there with you." Ianto gave him a tentative smile. "I love you, Jack."

Jack thought about all the intimate moments they'd shared, and he knew that each one of those defining moments in their unconventional relationship had been genuine and real. They had some issues to get past, and it might take some time for him to forgive Ianto, but Jack didn't doubt the depth of the other man's feelings for him. He didn't doubt his feelings for Ianto. He didn't want Ianto to doubt them either. Regardless of the circumstances that had brought them together, Ianto had risked everything for the chance of a life together. It could be a fresh start for both of them, and Jack resolved that he wasn't going to waste it.

Pushed aside his concerns, he smiled back. "I know. I love you too, Ianto."

Ianto leaned in and gave him a tender, lingering kiss. Jack returned it without hesitation. Eventually he pulled away, albeit reluctantly. As much as he wanted to continue their reunion, his mind was racing with so many questions that he needed answered.

"Ianto, I need to know... what about John, Tosh, Owen and the others? Are any of them here?"

Ianto nodded. "The people you knew as John and Rose are in America at the moment. They travel a lot. They're not married, but they've been together for several years. They're happy."

Jack couldn't help breaking out into a huge smile. He couldn't wait to see his friend again. "Does he know me in this world? Are we friends?"

"You're not as close to him as you once were, but you're good friends. He doesn't know about what Jason was doing, or if he does, he's been hiding it well." Ianto paused and looked at Jack with a pensive expression. "He really is my uncle, by the way."

Jack felt relieved that he'd be able to have John in his new life, and he was amused that John was technically his uncle-in-law. He barely managed to hold back a slightly hysterical chuckle at that bizarre fact. He was also pleased that Ianto hadn't deceived him about the nature of his relationship with John.

"I'm glad," Jack replied as he realised Ianto was watching him curiously. "And the others?"

"Tosh and Owen are here," Ianto confirmed. "They live here in Cardiff, and they're together. They have different names of course, but we're friends with them. You'll be able to see them. They're very similar to the people you knew. I'm not sure about the others, but we can find out."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. He was relieved about Tosh and Owen, but he couldn't help thinking about his world and what they'd be going through now that they had his death to deal with so soon after John's. They'd been his friends, and they were still real to him. He thought about Dylan too and his heart ached with sadness.

He'd have to talk to Ianto about what would happen in the simulated world, and what they might be able to do to repair at least some of the damage. They'd need to do whatever they could to ensure that none of the other inhabitants would ever discover the true nature of their existence.

Ianto stood up, and grasping Jack's hand, he pulled him to his feet. He smiled at Jack warmly. "Come on, Jack. There's so much I want to show you."

Jack returned Ianto's smile, feeling a sense of tremulous excitement. He had the rest of his life to share with this remarkable man. As bizarre and unsettling as it was to be dropped into this strange new world, he had Ianto Jones as his partner, and that was more than he ever could have hoped for.


	32. Epilogue

Here's the epilogue to the story. This wasn't planned, but I hope everyone likes it and that it helps to answer any lingering questions. Enjoy! Thanks as always to my amazing beta Prothrombintime.

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

Ianto breathed out a heavy sigh. With a final tap on the keyboard, he leaned back against his chair and turned to look at Jack, who was sitting beside him, watching anxiously.

He smiled at Jack wearily. "It's done," he said simply.

Jack nodded and smiled back gratefully. "Thank you. I know it wasn't easy..."

Ianto shook his head, cutting him off. "It was my responsibility, Jack." Jack opened his mouth to protest. "Our responsibility," Ianto amended quickly. "Besides, I wanted to do it."

"Is everything ready for me?" Jack asked hesitantly.

He caught a flash of distress passing across Ianto's features. Jack knew that Ianto wasn't happy with what he was about to do, and he fully understood the reason for the younger man's concern. Ianto's greatest fear was that if Jack used the simulations, what had happened with Jason would happen to him too. They had no way of knowing if it was even a possibility, no matter how unlikely it seemed. So they'd agreed that their only option was for Jack to abstain from using the cortical interface technology.

It was a promise that Jack was more than willing to make. After everything he'd been through, the idea of being in any world other than the real one held absolutely no appeal to him. However, he just had one final thing that he needed to do first.

"Yep. I've updated your profile," Ianto replied evenly, a moment later. "You're good to go. Just don't forget what to do when you're finished and ready to come back."

"I won't forget," Jack assured him.

Ianto nodded and stood up. He took a couple of steps away from the desk, arching his back and stretching out his arms. Jack rose to his feet and moved to stand in front of him.

"You're exhausted," Jack said quietly, and resting his hands on Ianto's shoulders, he began to gently massage the tired, tense muscles.

"Yeah, just a bit," Ianto admitted with a soft sigh, closing his eyes and leaning into Jack's touch.

"Go and get some sleep," Jack suggested. "I won't be long, I promise."

Ianto opened his eyes and looked at Jack intently. "You're sure you don't want me to do this?"

"No, it should be me. I need to see him one last time." He squeezed Ianto's shoulders reassuringly. "You understand, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Ianto replied. He gave Jack a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm just being an idiot."

"No, you're not," Jack admonished. "I'll be as quick as I can, and then that's it, just like we agreed. It's not worth the risk."

Jack gazed into Ianto's soulful, blue eyes as Ianto looked back at him affectionately. He took a moment to lose himself in the warm stirrings of his deeper emotions. The fierce and unwavering intensity of his feelings for the younger man continued to astonish him.

He gave Ianto a gentle, heartfelt smile. "Everything I've ever wanted is right here in front of me. Being here with you... knowing that you're mine... I wouldn't change that for the world. Not for any world."

Ianto's tired features softened, and he reached his hand up to his right shoulder, resting it over Jack's hand and entwining their fingers. Pulling Ianto closer, Jack cradled his face with his other hand and kissed him deeply. They continued to kiss for a long moment before reluctantly breaking apart, both sighing from the loss of contact.

Jack caressed Ianto's cheek. "I want you to show me some more of this amazing new world tomorrow," he murmured. "Although I intend to have you to myself for a few hours first." He grinned suggestively. "Perhaps we can cross off a couple more items on that list of yours."

Ianto grinned back. "Hmm… I like the sound of that. Maybe if you're very lucky, I'll introduce you to my stopwatch."

With a sly wink, Ianto turned away, walked slowly out of the room, and then headed towards the bedroom. Jack chuckled and watched fondly until Ianto disappeared from sight, his mind momentarily spinning with anticipation. While it was going to be difficult to come to terms with his new reality, Jack knew that as long as he had Ianto, everything would be all right.

It had been a long, exhausting day. Ianto had been working non-stop for over twelve hours to get everything done. Jack had been of little help to him for most of that time. He understood the theory, but the technology was fifteen years beyond anything that he was familiar with.

Jack's retinal scan had given them full access to the system, and he'd watched in amazement as Ianto worked with masterful skill and fastidious attention to detail. Even with the incredible technology at their disposal, Ianto had cautioned him that what they were doing was risky, and general speaking, heavily frowned upon. The simulated worlds were not supposed to be tampered with, except under the most extreme circumstances. The results were just far too unpredictable.

However, Ianto had been willing, and he hadn't fought Jack on it, for which Jack was deeply grateful. He'd stayed at Ianto's side, helping as much as he could, keeping a steady supply of coffee flowing, and making sure that Ianto stopped to eat.

Ianto had told him a summarised version of what had occurred in the simulation after Jason had entered. Jack had been horrified as he'd listened to Ianto's chilling narrative. They'd both been incredibly lucky, and learning how close Ianto had come to losing his life had filled Jack with a feeling of deep dread. He was mindful that Ianto had been forced to kill his former husband. The younger man seemed to be holding up well, but Jack was determined to keep a close eye on him, doing whatever he could to help Ianto work through the emotional fallout. They both had a significant amount of trauma to deal with. Jack just hoped that what they were now doing would be a solid first step in putting the recent past firmly behind them.

Taking a deep breath, Jack picked up the headset from its cradle on the desk and made his way to the living room. Lying down on the long, comfortable sofa with a cushion tucked under his head, he put the headset on and tapped the button on the side. A soft warning tone beeped in response, and forcing his body to relax, Jack closed his eyes.

[=====]

Jack's eyes blinked open, and he waited for the familiar wave of disorientation to pass. He was sprawled out on the sofa in his apartment. It felt strange and unsettling to suddenly be back in his old home. It would be the last time he'd ever see it, he realised, and he felt a stab of nostalgia. He'd liked living there, but he couldn't allow himself to dwell on the past. This was his old life, and he had to keep his mind firmly focused on what he now had, not what he'd lost. Besides, he'd spent many lonely hours in this space, and loneliness was something that he wouldn't have to endure any longer. Looking at it from that perspective, what he'd lost was a small price to pay.

Quickly changing his clothes, swapping the worn jeans and t-shirt his counterpart was wearing for a newer pair of dark jeans, a grey button-down shirt, and his faithful leather jacket, he left the apartment and drove himself to St. David's hospital.

After enquiring at the reception area, it didn't take Jack long to find the correct hospital room. Standing outside the doorway, he took a steadying breath, and pushing aside his trepidation, he made his way inside.

The room was quiet and still. Pulling a chair close to the bed, Jack eased himself down into it. He gazed over the familiar form of the sleeping man, marvelling at how youthful and innocent he looked in his unconscious state. He'd never imagined that he could be so utterly captivated by watching someone sleep as he was with this beautiful man. However, Jack flinched as he noted the various injuries, and he felt a surge of guilt as he looked closer and saw the faint bruising and split lip for which he was responsible.

"Hey there," he said quietly as he rubbed gently on the man's shoulder. "Remember me?"

Dylan's eyes drifted open, and he looked around blearily for a moment before settling his gaze on Jack. He blinked and then a look of recognition spread across his features. "Jack?" he mumbled thickly.

Jack smiled warmly and leaned closer. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess," Dylan replied and awkwardly pushed himself upright as Jack reached forward to help him adjust the pillows. "I don't understand... what are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again."

"I can't stay for long. I just wanted to check that you're okay and to tell you something." Jack reached for Dylan's hand and wrapped it carefully in his own. "Do you know what happened?" he asked gently.

Dylan shook his head as he frowned and looked at Jack in confusion. "No, it's all blank. The last thing I remember was getting into my car after being with you and leaving the club. Then I woke up here."

Jack nodded and relaxed, relieved that the erasure of the small section of Dylan's memory had been successful. "You were attacked. Probably just some thugs looking for money. I don't know any of the details though." He gave Dylan's hand a reassuring squeeze. "The only thing that matters is that you're going to be all right."

Dylan looked down at their joined hands and then back at Jack. His brow furrowed slightly. "I've been having these black-outs," he began hesitantly. "The doctor said I've got a mild concussion, but they did a scan, and he says everything's fine. They're keeping me here for observation, but I should be able to go home the day after tomorrow."

"That's great news," Jack said reassuringly. "You don't need to worry either. You're not going to have any more black-outs."

Dylan eyes widened with astonishment. "How can you possibly know that?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. You're just going to have to trust me," Jack said carefully. "Things will be better now."

"But..." Dylan began.

"Please, Dylan," Jack appealed, keeping his voice low and even, and hoping that he sounded persuasive. "I just need you to listen. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm going to ask you to take a leap of faith. It's not going to make sense, but I'm here because I care about you, and I want to help you. I need you to believe that."

"Help me?" Dylan asked warily.

Jack breathed out a sigh. "This is going to sound crazy," he warned. "Things have changed. The man I said I was involved with who you reminded me of?" He paused until Dylan nodded in acknowledgement. "He's gone, and he's not coming back. So if you want this... if you want to be with me... if you think the two of us might be good together... well, you've got a shot. But there's a catch."

Jack paused again and looked intently at Dylan, waiting for him to respond.

Dylan looked back at him suspiciously, and Jack couldn't blame him. "Go on," he eventually said.

"Once you get out of here, you'll have to look for me, and when you find me, I won't remember anything about you." Jack felt frustrated that he had to be so evasive, but there was no other way that this would work. "I won't remember seeing you at the club or anything that happened that night. I won't remember the other man that you reminded me of either. You'll have to start over with me."

"So, you're saying that after you leave here tonight, you're going to forget that you ever met me?" Dylan asked. "You won't even remember coming here?"

Jack nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"That's insane," Dylan said matter-of-factly.

Jack sighed again. "I know. That's why I said it's a leap of faith. If you think I'm crazy, you can ignore everything I've told you and go on with your life. You'll probably never see me again. But if you want to take a chance, I think we could have something amazing together. It's up to you though."

Dylan continued to look at him with a mixture of suspicion and doubt, but Jack thought he could see a glimmer of hope too. "How will I find you?" he asked cautiously.

"I live in an apartment in Cardiff Bay, not far from the Plass," Jack explained. "But you can't just show up on my doorstep. It's going to have to seem like a chance encounter, or I'll be suspicious. I often spend time around the Plass, and I'm particularly fond of the water tower. That's probably your best bet. If you wait long enough, I'm bound to show up."

Jack gave Dylan's hand a final squeeze and gently let go. "Just think about it, okay? If you want a different life for yourself, I think I can give you that." He smiled as he thought about Ianto and the new life they were embarking on together. He just wanted Dylan to have that opportunity too. "I know I'd love to have someone like you in my life."

Dylan nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll think about it."

Jack smiled. "That's all I can ask. My full name is Jack Harkness, by the way. You should know that," he said as he stood up.

He moved the chair back and then returned to stand beside Dylan's bed. He smiled at the younger man again, and leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss against his lips. Dylan eyes widened in surprise as Jack pulled back. He brushed the pad of his thumb lightly over Dylan's lips, mimicking the other man's gesture from their encounter in the alleyway.

"I have to go now," Jack said softly. He smiled affectionately as he looked down at the handsome face that was breathtakingly identical to Ianto's. "Good luck, Dylan," he said sincerely. "Whatever you decide to do, I hope everything works out."

Jack turned and started to walk away. Then he paused and looked back. Dylan was just staring at him with a mixture of wonderment and confusion. He gave Jack a small, tentative smile.

"There's something else," Jack said with a broad grin. "When you get home, check the balance of your bank account. You might find a pleasant surprise."

[=====]

Two days later, Jack was standing near the water tower on the Plass, looking up at the shimmering monolith framed against the bleak, grey sky. He'd been coming here frequently since John's death. He found the sight and sound of the cascading water soothing, and looking around the vast expanse of the surrounding area with its regular bustle of people was a reminder that life must go on.

John's killer had been found, and they'd attended John's funeral the Saturday morning of the previous week. It was as much closure as they were going to get. His memories of the last week and a half were strangely muddled and confused. Since he'd received the terrible call informing him that John had been murdered, everything was frustratingly hazy. He supposed that it was a side effect of his intense grief, combined with several drinking binges. With John gone and the future of their project in serious jeopardy, Jack could never recall a time when he'd felt more confused, lost, or alone.

He rubbed furiously at his eyes, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He was just about to walk away when he glanced to his side and noticed a tall, slim young man walking slowly towards him. He was dressed in faded jeans and a dark blue shirt, accompanied by a black denim jacket. He had a slight limp, and his left forearm was wrapped in a cast. Jack idly wondered what had happened to him. He was strikingly handsome, with short, dark brown hair, contrasting pale, smooth skin, and perceptive blue eyes. There was something elusively familiar about the young man, but Jack couldn't remember having ever seen him before.

The man came to a stop a few feet away from him. "Jack?" he asked cautiously in a thick Welsh accent.

Jack just looked at the man in surprise. There was definitely something familiar about this young Welshman, but he was still at a loss. "Um, I'm sorry... have we met before?"

"Yes, once, but you probably don't remember." The man shrugged. "It doesn't matter." He stepped forward and stuck out his right hand. "I'm Dylan… Dylan Evans."

Jack shook the man's hand as he studied his features carefully. "Nice to meet you... you do seem familiar somehow."

Dylan smiled gently. "Even if you don't remember, I've got one of those faces. I get that a lot." He looked at Jack with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jack said, his voice wavering. "I'm having kind of a rough time at the moment. A close friend of mine died last week."

"I'm so sorry," Dylan said with obvious sincerity. "I know what it's like to lose someone important to you." He paused and looked at Jack uncertainly. "I was just about to go and get a coffee. You could join me? Might help to take your mind off things for a little while."

Jack thought about politely refusing, but the guy seemed nice enough, and he could use the company. He'd been spending too much time alone lately. Maybe he'd even found himself a new friend, he thought.

He tried to produce a grateful smile. "Sure, why not. I know the perfect place."

Dylan smiled in return, and they set off together, walking side-by-side across the Plass.


End file.
